


To Have and To Hold

by Hyrulehearts1123, sageclover61



Category: Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Amnesiac Sam Winchester, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), BAMF Gabriel (Supernatural), BAMF Raphael (Supernatural), Canonical Self Harm, Child Abuse, Death, Death is too good for John Winchester, F/F, Gabriel (Supernatural) Adopts Dean Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) Adopts Sam Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Gabriel (supernatural) is best dad, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, Lucifer Self-Harms, M/M, Magic, Pagan God Gabriel (Supernatural), Past Child Abuse, Powers!Sam Winchester, Raphael (Supernatural) is Sigyn, Sacrifices, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: John Winchester is afraid of whatever the Yellow Eyed Demon did to Sam Winchester. So he decides to make an exchange with Loki. Sam Winchester's life in exchange for the death of the Yellow Eyed Demon.It doesn't go as planned because Gabriel doesn't accept human sacrifices and the fickle Trickster God would much rather take Sam Winchester in exchange for "whatever John deserves". Gotta love the ambiguity the English Language allows.And then there's Dean Winchester, whose desire to have his brother back lands him at Hela Lokisdottir's court on the Winter Solstice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. The goal is lots of softness of archangels raising the humans, but we have some pain first. Warning for canon typical violence and violence against children (but no graphic violence). Hela's court is not a happy place because what kind of people would come to her court at a last resort? No major characters die though, and there's no death on screen.

It was the winter solstice and Gabriel was drinking hot cocoa with his mate, Raphael, in their bed. And it was cold. Not inside their house, of course, because their nice house was was whatever temperature they wanted it to be and they liked it warm, but it was very cold outside.

It was well after dinner time, but not so late that they were thinking about bed. Raphael was reading a book and drinking his hot tea, and Gabriel had just wanted to be close to him.

Winter was hard for all of them.

Winter was hard for everyone, and for all the origin stories mortals had about it, Persephone, Kor, Cernunnos the horned God, the Pagans had very little on Lucifer's descent into Hell occurring during what would then become the bleakest part of winter.

Gabriel was Autumn. The changing leaves and the mating deer and the playful squirrels, those were his purview. Raphael was the gentle spring, new growth and birth and all things coming back to life. And Michael was the scorching summers. Forest fires and bloody sunrises.

The winter was a needless reminder that their family was infinitely broken, and that the world would probably end before anyone even thought to try to negotiate.

It was a feeling of a Summons that jerked Gabriel from his lamented sulking, and he almost dismissed it without a thought.

Gabriel held his court during the Autumn Equinox, at the height of Loki's power. He was The Trickster, and it provided ample opportunity to deal in offerings and deserts. To some he gave what they wanted, to some what they needed, and to others what they deserved. It was all fun and games for an immortal archangel of justice who much preferred just being a trickster god.

He got out of bed and went to the window, still of half a mind to ignore the summons. He didn't  _ have  _ to go. It could be suspicious, but he'd hardly be the first. And tricksters didn't have to follow all the rules. Why should they?

"Gabriel, are you alright?" Raphael asked, looking up from his book. It was dark outside, and the curtain was open so they could see out if they so desired. "Could you close the curtain?"

Gabriel drew the curtain shut. "Someone is trying to summon Loki. I was thinking of ignoring it. It's quite nasty out there."

"It could be important."

The summoning came again, and Gabriel knew in his gut that he couldn't ignore it. It wasn't one of  _ his _ asking for aid, but that meant little. And as much as he hated winter, it could be someone desperately in need.

He didn't want to go. He wanted to lie in bed with his mate until this horrible season was over.

Raphael put down his book and joined Gabriel at the window. "I will still be here when you get back, and maybe I'll have a surprise for you." He pressed a kiss to Gabriel's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you more," Gabriel whispered in response. He took a step away from his mate and felt for the origin of the summoning, and then he was gone.

He found himself in a forest, somewhere within the central United States. It was snowing hard enough to limit visibility past five feet in front of you, and there were already several feet of snow on the ground, with no signs of stopping any time soon.

Archangels couldn't actually feel cold, but he felt cold just by looking at it.

There was a hastily built altar, hardly more than a fold out table with a cloth laid out over it, but that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was what laid upon the altar as the offering.

Atop the altar laid a very small, bruised and unconscious naked human child who was turning blue.

He turned towards the other human, intending to ream into him because this was a most unacceptable sacrifice, but the very warmly dressed human male spoke first.

"Fucking finally! I thought you were never going to show! I give you a sacrifice and you give me what I want, right?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes. If I like your sacrifice. Or your request. I'm a cruel and capricious god, unbound by any rules."

The man's hand moved, revealing a stake covered in human blood. "I could kill you."

Actually, he couldn't. But then Gabriel really would take the kid and leave. But Gabriel was more concerned about the possibly dead child than any bones the man felt like picking. "I'll hear your request. Want me to heal your son? What would you offer me in return?"

He had healed many children for various offerings. It was easy enough for his archangel side to heal injuries, but it was almost easier as a pagan. All this required was an exchange. Something that meant something to the person making the request, but it didn't have to have real value.

Gabriel had a suspicion that this was much more nefarious. Most people didn't put the thing they wanted on the altar. But he didn't accept human sacrifices and if the man had done his research, he should have known that.

He and Raphael had raised many a child that misguided individuals had tried to bargain away. They had never gotten what they wanted. Needed, maybe, depending on the circumstances, but mostly what they deserved. 

"What? No! I want you to destroy the yellow eyed demon that killed my wife and made my Sam inhuman. You can have him in exchange."

Gabriel placed a finger on the side of the boy's throat, looking for a pulse. He was alive, barely. His heart rate was easily below 60 bpm, well below a healthy child's. The child was also barely breathing and his skin was blue around his lips. Hypothermia, frostbite or lack of oxygen?

The child was deathly still, and Gabriel  _ knew  _ he didn't have much longer.

"Is that what you deserve?" he asked. He  _ wanted  _ to draw out this human's suffering, but the child and getting him home was his only concern. Hopefully he arrogant bastard wouldn't pick up on the trap he was setting. 

"Absolutely! So you'll do it?"

Gabriel nodded. "What you deserve in exchange for the child you don't. I accept this agreement."

He might look into a yellow eyed demon, but this man deserved  _ death _ for this. And of course the possibility existed that he had killed his wife in a drunken rage, and had either thought he had seen something he hadn’t, or fooled himself into believing his innocence. The line about his son being inhuman could be outright denial of neurodivergence, or something worse.

He marked the soul to make sure he could be found again and gently picked the child up. The child weighed far too little. He couldn't guess an age, but he could guess at malnourishment.

And then he flew home. "Raphael!" he shouted through their special link that could not be overheard.

"What happened?" Raphael was asking the instant Gabriel landed, which was the instant before he noticed the unconscious child in Gabriel's arms.

He was already reaching for the child. They'd done this enough before that Gabriel was letting the child into Raphael's arms and not bothering to answer the question Raphael had already extrapolated an answer for.

Raphael used his grace to determine what was wrong with the child. Hypothermia, frostnip, concussion, and drugged with a normally lethal dose of sleeping medication. And he wasn't breathing well. CPR wasn't necessary, but it was a close call. "We're going to need blankets." He healed the physical damage and burned out the sleeping medication. The frostnip was easy enough to prevent from progressing to frostbite, especially now, but he couldn’t just raise the child’s internal temperature. It would be too much of a shock to his system, like how running hot water over cold fingers burned too much.

Gabriel fetched blankets from the chest at the foot of the bed. Most years at least one person offered a hand crafted blanket in exchange for something and he always took it, even if the exchange wasn't for the thing they said they wanted. He had given some of them away to the children he and Raphael had cared for, and the rest had been collected in their blanket chest because one never had too many blankets. Ones made out of love were the best kind.

Raphael had carried him to their bed and laid him down gently. Gabriel brought the stack of blankets to him.

Raphael carefully wrapped the child in the blankets, making sure that his core would warm up faster than his extremities. The finishing touch was a heated blanket over his chest. It was set via grace to be just the right temperature to help warm him up without heating him fast enough to cause heart failure.

"How long will he sleep?" Gabriel asked when Raphael stopped worrying with the blankets and sat back to watch.

"He might wake up when he warms up, but I don't know. He should no longer be under the effects of the sleeping medication, but with such a slow heart rate, his body may have entered hibernation mode. Or he could be in a coma from the effects of everything he went through."

Raphael used his grace to provide nourishment to the child. He did not appear to be able to afford any more skipped meals.

* * *

Hela Lokisdottir had mixed feelings about the Winter Solstice. On one hand, as a goddess of Death it seemed like she had no other choice but to hold her court on the darkest, bleakest night of the year. On the other hand, she dearly loved the parents who had raised her and it would have been kind to be able to go home and support them on the anniversary of the worst day of their lives.

She knew it had been years since her feral siblings had gone home for Yule. They were all adults and their parents were far from begrudging them their lives, but it wasn't that hard to tell that even still winter upset them.

Hela wished more than anything that it would be possible for her to return home on the 22nd of December, but knowing full well that it would not 

Court seemed to be more dismal this year than any other year. Fenrir and Jormungandr had both decided to join her, which was new, but that should have made it better. But it was also a reminder that none of them were where they needed to be. 

Jor was drinking the mead and making a fool of himself, and wouldn't that be fun to explain to the parents.

Meanwhile, Fen had decided to make himself useful and was talking up the devotees. Learning stories, offering advice. They weren't cruel gods. For the most part, people came to Hela seeking mercy.

Hela's court was significantly less fun than the courts of her siblings, or even the court of her father. She was the goddess of Death, and so the people who typically sought her out usually had a reason for doing so. Sure, there was a feast for her guests, but they weren't here celebrating life.

Most frequently, people sought her out because they themselves were close to death, or their loved ones were. Sometimes people brought their dying children and in those cases, she tried to save them. The pagan powers themselves required an exchange to heal them, but it always took a great deal of her strength to heal small children.

Once per year, on the day she was at the height of her power, she could usually manage it.

Loki might claim he could do it with only the pagan part of himself, but he still had the strength of an archangel to back it up.

Hela's attention was drawn back to the story the elderly woman in front of her was telling. She'd been misdiagnosed with an earlier stage of lung cancer, and she  _ knew  _ chemotherapy wouldn't save her, would just leave her penniless and no inheritance for her children. The life insurance money might cover her funeral, but that wasn't what she wanted for her children and their families.

Hela couldn't blame her for that. She glanced at the clock. Late. It was always late. No matter how many petitioners she had, the clock always struck 2 am as she drew closed her court and left.

Time spells were Loki given. But that didn't keep her from being exhausted or worn down by the depression that seeped through the roots of her court. She wanted to crash at her parents' house and sleep for a week. But while she could return people to the moment they left she did not have that luxury. She did not have the power to create a time loop on a whim and return to the same time she'd created it upon it's close.

The exchange was that she had to return to the moment in time that was the same length of time from the moment she had entered as she had been inside it. Those rules did not apply to Loki himself, but only the rules the archangel wanted to follow applied to him.

Her court had taken one night in the beginning, but three to five days had become pretty normal. But she knew this one was the longest one so far.

The story was the woman's bargain for her wish. She'd tell her story, proving she'd lived her life to the fullest. In return, Hela would give her a swift and painless death considered natural causes. And she would pay the funeral expenses, but the woman didn't need to know that.

Hela paid for the funerals of all those deserving. It was her prerogative to be merciful and there was a never-ending list of people who deserved for the necessary funds to go missing.

She was nothing if not not the daughter of The Trickster. "Thank you for your story. Fear not in going home and sleeping deeply." She touched the woman's arm. The human would take it as comfort offered while it was also Hela marking her soul. Her heart would stop before morning. There would be no autopsy, no need for one. She would simply go to sleep and never wake up.

The woman thanked her and descended the dias. The next handful of petitions were similar.

Hela liked to think the elderly were the "easiest" to cope with, but none of this was easy. They'd lived their lives fully, and came seeking an end to their terminal ails. They had accepted they were far from immortal and were ready for what came next.

And then there were the ones who had not accepted their imminent ends. The ones who would scream and rage when told she was not capable of extending their lives.

She saved those deals for adults and children who had good reasons to continue living and who had not yet lived their fullest lives. She couldn't save everyone, wouldn't upset the delicate balance in that way. And she simply didn't have the strength for that. She wasn't even sure Loki did.

"You next," she said, motioning to a young woman huddling over a table in a corner. Fenrir had just wandered away from her and had subtly nodded in her direction.

If Fenrir was intrigued, she'd play.

The young woman made her way slowly until she was standing in front of Hela's thrown.

The woman was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and worn out jeans, but they didn't hide the bruises on her face, or the scratches on her hands, or the way she held her arms protectively in front of her stomach in a way that only attracted her attention because she had been doing this for centuries.

The woman was exhausted, injured, and should have been on bedrest.

She motioned to one of her followers to bring a short bench for the petitioner to sit on. "Please have a seat," she said. "As much as I appreciate decorum, there's no reason to have you faint on my floor. May I have your name?"

She looked terrified, but after a moment's consideration she finally took the offered seat. "I go by Bree, goddess."

Hela nodded. "What brings you to my court today, Bree?"

Bree bit her lip. "Information. I'd like to barter for an answer."

She could already guess what the question was going to be, but for all the value it would hold to her, it wasn't what she  _ needed. _ Mortal doctors had told her they couldn't tell whether or not the baby was healthy, had probably taken one look at the damage she had sustained and recommended cutting her losses. But they didn't know how much love Bree already had for the baby.

Hela wasn't a mother, but as much as her job hurt, she liked the little bit of light there was and could be provided in cases like these.

"You want to know if your baby is healthy, and they are. It might also bring you some pleasure that neither are your own injuries life threatening. But I'm not going to ask your for something in exchange for that information because it's not what you  _ need _ ."

The eyes of the mother-to-be widened. "Really? You mean it? We're going to be fine?"

Hela smiled. "I'm not a fickle goddess. It doesn't bring me pleasure to give good news only to smash away new hope. But I imagine you won't continue being safe if the man who did this gets off. So let's make that bargain. State's evidence to ensure he goes away for life, and in exchange you give me… baby's first ultrasound picture?"

"Of course, absolutely," Bree stammered. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper worn from the number of times it had been folded and unfolded.

The baby in the picture wasn't distinguishable as a human yet. Six to eight weeks pregnant, it looked more like a little peanut. But they were going to be loved, and that was more important.

"Then it's done." And it was. A deal was a deal and she wouldn't have even considered reneging on this one. Giving someone some hope and putting a women beating bastard away for life? This was going to be the highlight of her century.

Bree was dismissed and she disappeared easily into the crowd.

Fenrir joined her almost as soon as she had a horn of mead in hand. “You doing alright?” he asked, holding out a plate of horderves. This tray contained crackers, cheeses, and meats.

She took a cracker. “Just bored.” That wasn’t entirely true, and Fen probably knew that, but as depressing as being here was, she also wasn’t happy her brothers had shown up and she couldn’t tell them why. Or let them in on  _ why  _ she wanted them to leave. And if they figured out she was upset, she’d never get rid of them and their parents needed them more. “Why are you  _ here _ ?”

Fenrir shrugged. “Because I want to be here?”

Hela rolled her eyes. “You should go home.” If he left now, then he could still arrive at home on the 21st of December. “Dad and Raphi need you and Jor more than I do.” She already knew no one else had gone home, and she didn’t want their parents to be alone in their grief.

“I think you’re lying to yourself.”

Hela frowned, and snagged some cheese and summer sausage to put on another cracker. For all that she was hungry, she just really wanted to get this over with so that she could go home. Their parents needed company and her brother wasn’t  _ listening  _ to her.

She turned around and headed back to her throne.

It took what was left of her patience to get through what was left of her court. In an effort to get through it as quickly as possible, she asked for no more stories. A lock of hair, some drops of blood, an autographed book.

And at long last, she came to the last couple with their sleeping baby girl. She knew this bargain would be the hardest, take the most out of her. She’d see to it that they got there happy ending, and the cost would not be high for them.

But she was already exhausted to her very core. What would it cost  _ her _ ?

“Tell me about your little girl,” she said, when they were standing before her.

“Her name is Grace,” the mother said. “The doctors said she has a brain tumor, and that it’s inoperable.”

Fatal, dying. Hela had known those things from the moment they’d walked in. Death was her purview and she wanted nothing to do with it.

“We’ll give you _ anything _ , can you heal her?”

Hela nodded. “May I hold her?”

There was some hesitation, but after a moment Grace’s mother handed the sleeping infant to the goddess of death and Hela kissed Grace’s forehead.

“She’ll live,” Hela said. “In exchange, if either of you ever hurt her, she’ll no longer be yours.”

Many of those who sought her out were children and adults abused to the point where  _ anything _ , even death, was better than another day within that situation. They were hard to see, a reminder of humanity’s failures, and yet she was able to help them. She allowed them to barter for freedom, but not for death. They hadn’t  _ lived  _ yet. She made sure they got free from their circumstances, and were able to see good doctors and therapists and had things like groceries.

But she knew that so many more never found their way to her. So when she healed children in this way, the bargain always ensured they didn’t join the masses of other abused children.

“We’d never hurt Grace!” the mother insisted, as though Hela had never  _ heard  _ that one before.

If she hadn’t seen it happen, it wouldn’t have necessitated saying. As it was, Hela wanted nothing more than to believe her. But her long life had made her cynical. She’d seen  _ a lot _ . “Then you’ll have no trouble keeping your end of the bargain.”

And with that, it was  _ finally  _ time to adjourn her court.

Hela stood, fully intending to do just that, (and hopefully sending Jor and Fen back to the moment they’d come to see her instead of to whatever moment of the future she was about to end up in), when there was suddenly the appearance of a child on her dias, crashing into the bench that was still there.

She couldn’t peg the age of the boy. He was clutching an old book open and he appeared injured and disoriented.

If she had not been so curious about why he was here and now, she would have sent him back. It was  _ time  _ to close court and she didn’t want to be here a moment longer than necessary.

And yet, she also knew she couldn’t do that. Not with the similarities she found in most of the kids and teens who found themselves in her court under their own power.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hela saw Fenrir approaching the dias they were on. The child glanced in his direction and scrambled backwards.

He was shaking with panic and the erratic heartbeat concerned Hela.

"Excuse me," she said softly. "Did you mean to come here?"

He looked at her. "Hela?" he stammered.

"Yes, childe. I am Hela." Careful to not startle the child, she slowly rose from her throne, moving to sit on the ground a few feet away from him. “How did you find this place, if you do not mind telling me?” It was an easy trick, one meant to convince the child that he had a choice in what was to happen, while also ensuring that it was close enough to a command that he would tell her, should he not know to make his own decisions.

The child looked confused for a moment, before seeming to remember the book that was in his hands, dropping it quickly as if it was burning him to hold it. He shoved it away from himself, and Hela could feel his heart racing somehow faster than it had moments before.

Ever cautious, Hela reached for the book, allowing the pages to fall open as they would. And she did not like what she found.

It was not a spell book, nor a book of tales of eons long past, as she had assumed at first sight. It was a journal, full of the information a hunter would need to find and kill its prey, regardless of if they had done anything deserving of death.

For an adult, or even a teenager to have such a thing would have been concerning.

For this child to have it?

Hela was ready to make heads roll.

Hunters had never had the best reputation, even when they were alone and roaming. For one to drag a child around was practically unheard of, and she was more than prepared to do whatever would be needed to keep the child away from such a dangerous environment.

The thought crossed her mind that the child may not have even been the hunter’s, that he may have been stolen away from his parents, or whisked away in the night after some cruel fate had befallen his family, but she tried not to dwell upon it. The child’s relation to the hunter did not matter. The reason for his attempting to find her did, and that was still a mystery.

But as she looked further through the pages of the book, she could not find anything that would have led him to her court. And so, she looked back at the child, smiling softly. “Would you be able to show me what I cannot find on my own?”

A moment of stillness passed, and she could hear her brothers whispering amongst themselves, quick, half spoken sentences in languages long dead, but she paid it no heed. Instead, she watched carefully as the boy slowly began to move closer to her, shifting with care, so as to keep too much weight away from his left side.

The first indication of injury she had found.

She did not mention it, as the boy came to a stop several feet away from her, pulling the book close to himself as he began to turn the pages. And after several moments, he pushed it back towards her, before wrapping his arms around himself, still shivering slightly, despite the warmth of Hela’s court.

As she took in the start of several pages about various gods and how to summon them, she did not fail to look closer at the boy’s attire, finding numerous things that were concerning at best, and horrifying at worst.

He wore no coat, save for an overly large buttoned shirt that hung around shoulders that were too sharp, and he was continuously having to push the ends of the sleeves away from his hands, revealing without meaning to the lack of a long shirt underneath, and the already darkening mark in the shape of a large hand upon his right wrist.

The pants he wore were too short, with holes in the places where they creased at the knees, and there were no socks or shoes to help chase the cold away from vulnerable feet.

The signs of neglect and abuse were more than apparent, and that was before she caught the faint scent of iron, seeing the way a patch of hair on the back of the boy’s head was darker than the rest, faint traces of crimson left behind in the space behind an ear.

It was almost too much for her to take in, and that was before she even fully noticed the listing of names, both familiar and foreign to her, an overwhelming number of which were labeled as “ended” or “seasonal, wait for spring/summer”, along with detailed instructions as to how to summon them.

Creating a scrap of paper to hold the place of the horrifying pages, she turned once more to look at the boy, this time with the intent of trying to learn the truth of why he had come.

“These are good instructions. Did you follow them?”

With a hesitant look, the boy nodded, shifting his gaze to keep from looking at her. “I did.”

It was a whisper, but more than enough to be heard. Hela nodded as well, considering her next words carefully. “Did you mean to come here? Or were you trying to find somewhere else?”

The boy shrugged then, though Hela was pleased to find that his heart was beginning to slow, as the adrenaline from his appearance began to fade. “It was the only one I had all the stuff for, so I gave it a shot.”

Hela smiled, listening idly to her brothers trying to figure out why a hunter would leave ingredients laying where a child could get to them, as she reached to tap the journal with a finger. “And this? Where did you find it?”

“It’s my dad’s. He left it on the table when he-” The boy cut off quickly, his heart rate climbing once more as he rose to his knees, shuffling towards Hela as quickly as he could. “You need to help me! Please! I forgot!”

Reaching to keep the distraught boy from falling over, Hela was growing more concerned by the moment. “What’s the matter? Are you not safe where you came from?” It was a foolish question, one she already knew the answer to, but one that she needed to ask regardless.

The boy groaned in frustration, reaching up to pull at his hair as he began to speak. “No! I’m fine! It’s Sammy, you gotta help him!”

Hela’s eyes widened in alarm, and she could sense her brothers coming closer, having seen and heard the same things as she had, equally as concerned for the boy’s safety. “Who is Sammy?” She asked, hoping there wasn’t another child out there, in pain.

“My brother!”

Damn.

But the boy was still talking. “Dad, he hates Sammy, and he said that he was gonna ‘finally do something about the stupid brat’, and he was gonna do it tonight! I tried to stop him, I really did! But he pushed me, and I woke up and it was dark!”

“Did he say what he was going to do?” Fenrir was speaking now, a low growl punctuating each word as he fought to keep in control of himself, and not startle the boy more than he already had.

The boy shook his head, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks as he grew more upset with each moment. “I don’t know!” he sobbed, and Hela’s heart ached for the child. Against her better judgment, she pulled him close, allowing him to cling to her as his terror for his brother overwhelmed him.

Looking at the clock, she knew it was time to make her offer. The final deal of the year.

She softly soothed the boy, rocking back and forth as she began to speak. “Childe, I swear to you that I will do whatever is needed in order to aid you and your brother. As such, this is my bargain to you; that you and your brother shall come to live with me, and my fathers, until such a time as you are ready to go out into the world on your own, and make your own way in life. Do you accept these terms?”

Though there were no further words shared, the resonation within her magic did not lie to her. And as the clock rang out, she closed her eyes.

It was time to return home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for blood and vomiting and Hela not being in a good place health wise. (But I promise she won't die. Resolution for her illness will follow in the next chapter.)

It was just before dawn on Christmas Day when Gabriel felt the wards parting, allowing his eldest children entrance into his home. It wasn’t a shock that they had missed the anniversary of the worst day, but the fact that they had all come at all warmed his heart regardless.

And then he felt the extra person entering, and a cold feeling began to overtake the warmth that had been building.

With a quick glance to his mate, ensuring that he would remain with the child, who after nearly four days was still sleeping, he reluctantly climbed away from the comfort of the many blankets and pillows that covered their bed, walking towards the living room, where he could hear Fenrir speaking quietly to someone.

“She’s just sleeping, see? She had a far longer night than any of the rest of us, and needs to rest.”

“She’s gonna be ok?”

Gabe almost froze, not having expected to hear a voice so young, and so full of pain. Especially from one who had so clearly come from his daughter’s court.

“I swear she is. Jor here is gonna go take her to her room, and let her sleep for a while. Why don’t you and I go get a snack, and see how you feel after that?”

Not wanting to risk walking into a situation unprepared, Gabriel turned towards the more residential rooms of the home, arriving outside of Hela’s room just as Jor was walking out, eyes almost glowing from the force of his fury.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, watching his son with concern in his eyes. Something had happened, or gone wrong, and it had clearly shaken them all to their cores.

Jor was hissing, a sign that he was almost angry enough to lose control of his form. “It was time for Hela to close her court, when this kid shows up, with a fucking hunter’s journal. Kid’s been abused, and his jackass of a sperm donor was gonna do something to his brother, but the kid doesn’t know what.” 

Gabriel took a deep breath, trying to keep his own emotions in check, even as he pulled his raging son into a hug. “Go cool off, I’ll see what we can do to help the kiddo.”

There was a faint nod from Jor, before he was wiggling out of Gabriel’s hold, wandering off in search of a room where he could transform into his true form, and vent his frustrations.

With one child sent to calm down, and the other laid to rest until she had recovered, Gabriel sighed, slowly making his way towards the kitchen, where he could feel Fenrir and the new child.

As he drew closer, he could hear sounds of awe and delight, as well as questions barely gasped out around increasingly loud laughter. It caused him to smile, a strong suspicion as to what was causing the sounds growing in his mind, with the soft words only confirming it a moment later.

“Do it again!”

“Again? Pup, don’t you know that there’s more I can do than merely allowing one to see my ears and tail?”

But even as Fenrir was speaking, Gabriel could feel the magic swelling, allowing the mentioned features to appear, and causing the child to break into another round of laughter.

It was a comfort to hear the child laughing, and not entirely distraught over what had happened during the court. Even if Jor were exaggerating, which he was not known to do, even a small part of what he had been told would be a great deal for any child to deal with.

As such, he refrained from entering the kitchen for a moment, choosing instead to stand just out of sight, and take in the appearance of the child.

Even if he hadn’t been what he was, he would have been able to tell that the boy was in bad shape. But as he was an Archangel first, he could easily see the bruised bones, the cracked ribs, and the concussion that were all causing pain to the child. But beyond all of the pain, there was a quiet hope, as if he was awaiting something, and still held an innocent trust that it would come to pass.

Wanting to know what the boy was hoping for, Gabriel entered the kitchen. “I see you’re having fun in here!”

Fenrir smiled, but neither of them missed the way that they boy stiffened, shrinking in on himself in an attempt to make himself a smaller target to hit. In an attempt to try and make the situation a little less stressful, Fenrir walked around the island in the center of the kitchen, hugging Gabriel. “Father, it’s been too long,” he murmured, and Gabriel smiled as he held his son close.

“It has,” Gabriel confirmed, pulling away slightly before reaching up to ruffle his son’s hair. “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend here?”

The boy looked away, before mumbling softly. “Dean.”

“That’s your name? Dean?”

When the boy nodded, Gabriel smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean. My name is-”

“Loki. I know. I’m not stupid.” Dean sounded bitter, and Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if he had been called such a thing before.

Gabriel smiled sadly. “I never assumed that you were, Dean. But not many remember the connection between myself and my children, so I wanted to ensure that you know who I am, regardless of if you already knew or not.”

Dean looked ashamed, and Gabriel felt his heart ache for the boy. He didn’t intend to cause the boy such shame, but there was nothing he could do now. For the moment, he needed to see what he could do to help the boy find his brother.

“Now, I heard that you were looking for your brother, is that correct?”

Dean nodded slowly, reaching back to touch the back of his head, wincing as he felt around. “My dad said he was gonna do something to him, and then I hit my head. So I don’t know where they are, or what’s going on.”

Gabriel nodded, trying to think of any deals that could have happened in the last several days wherein any siblings could have been torn apart. The only one he could think of was the other boy who had been sacrificed to him, but there hadn’t been any mention of any other children, had there? He couldn’t remember any mention of other children, but he had been so focused on the boy’s health, that he could have easily missed it.

“Alright, we’ll see what we can do to try and find your brother. Can you tell me his name?”

“His name’s Sammy. Well, it’s Sam, but he’s always been Sammy to me.” Dean started talking about how his brother, and what little he could remember about their lives before they were dragged around the country, and it made both Gabriel and Fenrir start to smile.

Watching the children that any of them took in start to become comfortable in their new situations, and start to flourish again.

It was almost an hour later, and Dean was slowly starting to fall asleep, laying against the island, his head pillowed against his arms. Fenrir was telling some story, likely about something that his siblings had done in the past, when a pair of arms wrapped around Gabriel’s shoulders, and he found himself being pulled against his mate.

“Another to join our family, I see,” Raphael murmured, and Gabriel nodded.

“He says his father knocked him out, and took his brother to do something, with an implication that he fully intended to get rid of him.”

There was a soft hum from Raphael, and Gabriel could practically hear the gears in his mate’s head turning. “You think that what happened on the solstice may not be isolated.”

Gabriel nodded. “I do.” He looked at the boy who had drifted off to sleep, sighing softly. “I didn’t want to tell him my suspicions, just in case we were wrong.”

Raphael moved to kiss Gabriel’s cheek, and Gabriel leaned into his mate as he spoke quietly. “We may not have to wait long to find out. He’s been shifting around for the last half hour, and I believe he may be waking soon.”

“I’ll take the pup to sleep in the living room then,” Fenrir cut in, moving to carefully lift Dean away from the chair he had been sitting in. “You two go make sure that the other one is healthy, before we try to introduce them.”

With a sigh, Gabriel nodded, before turning to hug his mate. He didn’t want to have done so much to help the young boy, only to find that he wasn’t healthy anymore. But at the same time, the lack of knowing was almost worse than finding out one way or the other.

“Let’s go see if we can’t be there for him when he wakes up.” Raphael whispered, gently reaching for Gabriel’s hand to lead him towards their bedroom.

All of Gabriel’s concerns kept flooding his mind as they walked, but Raphael’s constant affection, sneaking soft kisses against his neck, managed to keep the thoughts from overwhelming him.

Eventually, they were standing outside the door to their room, and Gabriel paused. He wanted to know that the boy that had been sacrificed to him was ok, needed to know, but he was still so worried.

What if he awoke, but something was wrong? Or, what if they were both wrong, and he would never wake again?

There was a gentle kiss to the top of his head, and he felt all of his worries draining away.

“Shall we meet our new charge?” Raphael was whispering, and Gabriel took a breath before nodding. There was no point in waiting any longer, just to keep worrying about it forever.

Better to know, than to sit and fear what may not be a reality.

With another breath to steady himself, Gabriel pushed open the door, dreading the worst.

To the shock of seemingly no one, there was not a cold, limp body lying on the bed, where there had once been a living, breathing child. But neither was the child lying where he had been, minutes before.

Instead, he was sitting, looking around the room in a muted sort of confusion, until his eyes met Gabriel’s.

With a soft smile, Gabriel moved to sit at the end of the bed, giving the boy space to not feel trapped. “Hey there, Kiddo,” he started, keeping his voice calming to help prevent any panic. “How are you feeling?”

The boy shrugged. “Ok, I guess.”

Nodding softly, Gabriel subtly waved Raphael over, wanting to try and get a better grasp on what was going on with the child. “Could you tell us your name? I don’t think either of us caught it before.”

It was a risk, trying to mention the sacrifice, but Gabriel didn’t have any other idea as to how to ask for his name.

Gabriel watched as the boy froze, before starting to shake slightly. He raised his hands to his head, eyes wide and watery.

“I….” the boy whispered, looking up at Gabriel with the most terrified look that he had ever seen on a child. “I don’t know.”

Gabriel shared a look with Raphael, who was moving quickly to kneel beside the bed, holding a hand out towards the boy. “Little one, if you would be willing, I can look into your mind, and see what is happening, and what could potentially be done to fix it.”

The boy looked at Raphael, tears beginning to slowly fall, and for a moment, Gabriel was worried that he would try to run away, terrified of the strange people asking questions, and frightened by his lack of memory.

But it seemed that his worries were in vain, as the boy quickly threw himself at Raphael, clinging to his shirt as he sobbed. Raphael pulled the boy close, lifting him off of the bed, and walking around the room as he tried to soothe the poor child, but never once tried to actively stop him from crying, as that had never been, and never would be a good idea.

“You’re alright, little one. You’re safe here, I swear it to you,” Raphael was whispering, and Gabriel felt his heart swell with love for his mate.

Slowly, the boy began to calm down, laying against Raphael’s shoulder as he sniffled and his breath hitched, his body still not quite calmed, though his emotions had started to settle. Raphael was whispering to the boy still, and after a few moments, the boy nodded, and Raphael raised a hand to the child’s head, whispering some more as Gabriel could feel his mate’s grace reaching out towards the boy.

After several minutes, Raphael met Gabriel’s eyes, shaking his head sadly.  _ “There is nothing within his mind. The only thoughts are of fear and confusion, and the only memories are of what has happened since he awoke.” _

The words echoed through Gabriel’s mind, and the pain of the realization caused his whole being to ache. For one so young to have lost everything of himself, with no clue as to who he had been, or what he loved, it was almost too much to bear.

_ “Is there anything at all? Even the smallest of subconscious impressions?” _

He was begging, but he could not stop himself. The thought of a child having to completely start anew, like a newborn, it was too painful. There needed to be something, anything, that would give even the slightest hint of a past, so they could try and help him.

But Raphael shook his head again.  _ “Almost nothing, save for one question, almost completely buried away. It is so deep within his subconscious, I doubt that he is even aware of it.” _

_ “What is it?” _

_ “He is asking where a ‘De’ is.” _

Gabriel frowned, before a small hope began to build. The other boy that had come to them, his name was Dean. Could there be any possibility that this boy was the Sam that Dean was so desperate to find?

_ “I’ll be back in a moment, I have something I need to check,” _ He left the room quickly, almost running to the living room, where he could still feel Fenrir and Dean.

“What’s the hurry, Dad?” Fenrir was asking, as Gabriel hurried towards the couch, where the boy was still napping.

Placing a gentle hand on the boy’s arm, Gabriel looked at his son. “There’s too many coincidences within the last few hours, and I’m not liking what I’m seeing.” Turning back to the boy, Gabriel gently began to run his hand across the boy’s arms, speaking softly as he slowly began to wake. “Hey there, Dean. I need you to wake up for a few minutes for me, if you can.”

Dean was yawning, shifting around and stretching, before he slowly began to sit up, and rubbing at his eyes. “‘S goin’ on?” he was slurring, clearly still tired, and in need of more sleep.

Gabriel hated that he needed to wake the boy up, but he needed to know. “It’s nothing that’s an emergency, I promise. But my mate and I want to ask you a few questions real quick, and then we’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Dean nodded softly, yawning again. Knowing full well that there was no way that Dean would be able to walk the whole way, Gabriel reached out and picked him up, sighing softly at the way Dean didn’t even try to put up any resistance, uncertain as to if it was due to the exhaustion, or because he was used to a complete lack of autonomy in regards to his own body.

Making a note to try and talk with the boy after he was more rested, Gabriel began to walk towards the room where Raphael was waiting, Fenrir following closely behind.

By the time they were outside the door, Gabriel knew that he was running out of time before Dean fell asleep again. As it was, the boy was nearly asleep, eyes closed, and his breathing slowing as his exhaustion was overwhelming him. With a nod towards Fenrir to open the door, Gabriel gently shook Dean’s shoulder, trying to keep him awake. “Alright kiddo, just a few more seconds, I promise.”

Dean lifted his head from Gabriel’s shoulder, drowsily looking around the room, before he froze, staring at Raphael.

No, not Raphael, he was staring at the child in Raphael’s arms, dozing against his shoulder.

“Sammy….?” Dean breathed, starting to struggle to get out of Gabriel’s arms as his eyes filled with tears, desperately trying to get to the other child. “Sammy!”

The boy in question startled awake, looking around with wide eyes, before reaching for Dean with tears in his eyes. “De!”

Both fully aware that a meltdown of unholy proportions was quickly building, should the boys be separated any longer, Gabriel and Raphael both quickly moved to let them both down, watching as moments after, they were rushing towards each other, both crying and clinging to one another.

Gabriel shared a sad look with his mate, knowing that they would need to break the news to Dean that his brother didn’t remember him, save for the barest indication that he was important to him. But that would be a conversation to have at a later time, after the initial shock and emotion had faded away, and they were both more stable.

* * *

It was several hours later, closer to dinner time than it was to lunch time, and Raphael was sitting in the living room with Dean, listening to the quiet laughter from the kitchen as his mate was preparing snacks for both of the children. Fenrir had been shifted into his wolfish form, napping next to the fireplace, when Sam had caught sight of him, and rushed to hug the ‘doggy’.

Dean had looked worried, but once it had been quietly explained that it was no bother to the shapeshifter, he had been more willing to allow his brother to approach the large wolf, which had eventually somehow evolved into riding atop his back, Dean watching things closely from where he had been sat and told to rest.

“How are your ribs?” Raphael asked quietly, watching as Dean startled, looking at him with wide eyes.

“How did you know?”

Raphael smiled sadly at the question, but didn’t hesitate to answer. “My primary dominion is over healing, and as such, I can see any injuries that one may have.”

Dean nodded slowly, before looking back towards where Sam was asking Gabriel something, watching the interaction with eyes that had clearly seen far too much over a short lifetime. “Even things that are healed?”

“If I look close enough.”

Dean nodded again, almost as if contemplating something, before turning to look at Raphael, a completely devastated look in his eyes. “This wasn’t the first time he hit him, was it.”

Raphael froze, and it seemed that it was more than enough confirmation for Dean, who closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself as he started to shake, voice cracking as he whispered. “He said he wouldn’t do anything, if I didn’t fight it!”

Raphael’s heart broke, and he pulled the shaking child into his lap, holding him close as he began to cry. “I’m so sorry, Dean.” He whispered, not sure what else to say to try and comfort him. He’d known that such a thing happened, but he’d never had to deal with the direct results of it. “You would have had no way of changing anything, if you had known, and it was far more likely that things would have been even worse.”

Dean was crying harder, shaking his head. “I should’ve told!”

Shushing the boy softly, Raphael gently lifted Dean’s head so he could look him in the eyes. “Sweetheart, you did everything you could to protect your brother. What happened was not your fault, regardless of what you’re thinking right now, do you understand?”

Dean was sniffling, but nodded softly, and eventually relaxed, laying against Raphael as he looked back towards the kitchen. “Sammy’s different now,” he whispered after several minutes, gently fiddling with the sleeve of Raphael’s shirt.

Curious to see what all Dean had noticed in the few hours they had been together, Raphael decided to let Dean lead the conversation. “Oh? How so?”

Dean shrugged, voice quiet as he talked. “He isn’t acting like Sammy. He’s usually really clingy, climbing all over me like I’m a playground thing, and now it’s like he doesn’t recognize me. He’s just been looking at me funny, like he's trying to remember something, and he doesn’t even talk like Sammy does.” There was a pause, before Dean looked up at Raphael for a moment. “My Dad mentioned something about changelings once, these monsters that replace normal kids and try to live like them, but it’s not them. Do you think something happened to the real Sammy, and something took his place?”

Raphael shook his head, smiling softly to keep himself from being horrified at the fact that Dean’s first thought was that something had replaced Sam, instead of the possibility of trauma after having been sacrificed in a bid for revenge.

“No, Sam hasn’t been replaced by a changeling, or stolen away by the fey, or anything else out there that may replace a child.” Taking a breath to steady himself, Raphael began to explain. “The reason why Sam came here is because your father gave him away. Well, more accurately, he gave Sam as an offering in an attempt to have what killed your mother delivered to him to kill. And when he hit Sam, he hit him on the head, causing him to forget things.”

Raphael sighed, trying to find the words to best explain to Dean why his brother couldn’t remember anything, or the likely reality that Sam would never remember any of what had happened in the past. “We don’t know right now what all he’s forgotten, or if he’ll remember things later on, but we all need to be gentle with him, and be patient when he gets confused about things, because there are going to be things that he can’t remember.”

Dean was slowly nodding, clearly deep in thought. “So, he doesn’t hate me?”

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing that you could do to make Sam hate you.” Not when the only thing that was so ingrained into Sam as the only thing left within the deepest recesses of his mind was Dean’s name, and an image of a younger Dean. 

“But he doesn’t remember!” Dean was whining now, and Raphael smiled, shaking his head softly in amusement. Clearly, the boy hadn’t had nearly enough sleep earlier, and when combined with far too many emotions in a single conversation, had exhausted him the same as if he had just run several miles.

Raphael knew that Dean was too small, and that Gabriel was working on making food for him. But at the same time, it wouldn’t be worth it to try and keep the boy awake, and risk him becoming even more overtired than he already was. Another hour or two would do him well.

With a wave of his hand, he summoned one of the many blankets that had been on his and Gabriel’s bed, gently wrapping it around Dean as he began to speak. “It’s true that he doesn’t remember, but that may change within the future. Or, he may never remember, and you will both have the chance to rebuild your relationship, with the knowledge that he will be safe from any memories of whatever was done to him in the past.” Reaching to run a hand through Dean’s hair, he continued.

“But that is not something that will happen today, no matter how much we wish to know the outcome. Rest, and let us worry about the immediate future.” He whispered, watching with a smile as Dean slowly lost the battle to stay awake, the combined comforts of a warm blanket, and a safe environment too great to fight against.

* * *

When Hela woke up, she felt beyond terrible. She was hot,  _ feverish _ , and ached  _ everywhere _ . And then she could barely get her head leaning over the floor before she was throwing up.

There was blood. So much, that it seemed like it was running across the floor, and her abdomen felt like a knife was being stabbed through the knots it had tied itself in.

It felt like her insides were dying.

Her lip quivered. She didn't know what was wrong, and she wanted  _ Gabriel _ . But she remembered what she'd done, that she'd brought a child with her in  _ need _ , which meant he'd be busy cleaning up after her mess.

Tears pooled in her eyes. Shifting her head, she saw the hunter's journal sitting on the night stand.  _ Gabriel needed to see that. _

Hela grabbed the notebook and jumped out of bed in almost the same motion and would have fallen down in the pool of her own blood if she hadn't been able to lean on both the wall and the bed.

She was dizzy, and weak kneed, and for a moment she wondered if this was what dying felt like.

Before she realised she had ever moved, she was leaning heavily into the door frame to the hallway. She was so  _ tired _ . If not for the book in her hand,  _ where was the book? _ she would have just given in. But it had to go to Loki. It had to contain information on Dean's brother.  _ And Loki needed to know about the hunter killing their friends. _

Hela made it into the hallway, but then she was throwing up again. Blood, bile, maybe whatever she'd eaten last.  _ When had that been _ ?

She took a step forward, and then she was falling. But that was okay. She'd hit the floor and then the pain would be gone because she wouldn't be conscious enough for that.

The hitting of the floor never occurred. Neither did she lose consciousness. Instead, someone caught her and pulled her upright, supporting all of her weight as she listed into their warm chest.

"Hela, Darling, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Daddy," she mumbled, cried. She wanted to tell him she had an important book in her hand for Gabriel, ( _ Where was it? _ ) and that he needed to know about the danger to the other deities, and maybe mention that there might be something wrong with her,  _ but she was fine, really. The feeling like death just wasn't an exaggeration _ .

But all she managed was a garbled something about Gabriel before she was throwing up  _ again. _

"Slip, can you go get Gabriel? Thank you."

There was movement somewhere far away. It was irrelevant.

"Let's get you back to bed, huh, Sweetie?"

She couldn't have walked. But she didn't have to walk because she was flying and that was infinitely better. 

And then she was no longer flying. She whined when she was tucked back into bed and reached out blindly for Raphael. "Daddy?" she mumbled.

"I'm right here." The universe shifted and a pleasant weight settled next to her on the bed.

"Is everything okay in here?" asked a soft voice from far away.

Hela managed to open her eyes just enough to see that her daddy on the bed shook his head, but she wasn't thinking about that or what it meant, because her attention was on her daddy in the doorway. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, weakly.

"Hey, Kiddo." He walked towards the bed and joined her on the other side from Raphael. "How are you feeling?"

She moaned. Her stomach hurt so much more than it had, and it hurt to breathe.

But her daddies were here. Nothing else mattered…

"The book!"

"What book?" Gabriel asked.

"There was a book on the floor, I moved it… Here."

"Hela, what book is this?"

"Hunter's journal, Dean's dad's." Hela coughed, and coughed. It wet a wet cough of iron and lung. She coughed until she was retching, but this time there was a bucket for her.

"Raphi… what's wrong with her? This isn't normal."

"Hela's been hiding that she's been getting sick after adjoining her court, but it's never been this bad."

" _ Dying _ ," Hela mumbled. She could feel it.

She'd been self conscious about her necrotic flesh as a child, but this was different.

She wasn't the biological child of Loki. But she had been a mostly immortal demigod from the beginning. She'd been abandoned in the snow so long the frostbite was apart of her. Gabriel and Raphael had done what they could, but they couldn't revive the dead flesh of half her body.

She would not have survived if she had been human. Necrotic flesh had to be amputated before it reached that point, or it rotted people. But in her case, it wouldn't rot, nor spread. And it was no longer so ugly, because they'd researched together special kind of tattooing that could reclaim the worst of it as what  _ she wanted _ . She was a demigod raised in the house of angels. She had and would survive things humans and monsters couldn’t even imagine. She was more than a thousand years old.

But that had nothing to do with what was happening to her organs. Something else had happened. They really were dying.

Her daddy put a hand on her stomach. It was just a light touch, so he could get an idea of what was going on.

It was comforting. Maybe she'd be just fine.

"Raphael? What is it?"

"Hela, who died that wasn't supposed to? Whose powers surged your court?"

Hela swallowed. She hadn't focused on the list of names, hadn't wanted to know whether it was their friends or enemies or merely acquaintances who were brutally murdered in an unrighteous war.

But that didn't mean she didn't know which name Raphael was looking for. Needed.

"Auntie Isis."

She knew this was important and wanted to see the expressions on their faces, especially with the sound of turning pages and small noises of shock and hurt.

Auntie Isis had been close to their family for longer than she'd been alive.

But her eyes didn't want to open. She was warm, and floating. Her parents were with her and she didn't need anything else.

" _ Raph. _ " Gabriel was whispering, pleading, begging. Mourning. And it was  _ her fault. _ She wanted to move, roll over and offer some kind of comfort but she couldn't.

Raphael rubbed her stomach. "It's okay, Hela. It's okay."

She believed it. Gabriel pressed closer to her, and she felt warm and loved. She could have dozed off, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She wanted to enjoy this moment more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we become a Lucifer (TV) Crossover! I'm taking some liberties with the Supernatural Canon, Lucifer was in no cage as the backstory from the Lucifer story has been taken instead, with liberties taken there as well. So please imagine our Lucifer as being portrayed by one Tom Ellis instead of Mark Pellegrino. Thank you.

"What's happening?" she asked quietly, torn between not wanting to know and needing Raphael to explain it to Gabriel so he would calm down.

"Your court was long this year, which weakened you, and your body wasn't ready for the extreme surge in power. Isis wasn't the only pagan to die recently that wasn't supposed to, and if their power disperses as they entered your realm, where could it all go but into you. Like electrocution. Except it hasn't dispersed yet like it should have. I can't tell why. But I should be able to fix it..."

There was a disruption by the door, but she couldn't focus well enough to see what it was.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, Kiddo?"

The answer came in the form of a whine, and then the bed was shifting, not as her dads moved, but rather as a small form climbed up onto the bed with them, and then, before anyone really thought to stop him, he curled up on her chest. Like a kitten.

She thought he was too small to be the Dean that she'd brought home. But… maybe it could be his Sammy? Through the blur in her vision, she was able to see a small head of loosely curled brown hair, wiggling around for a moment before he was comfortable, laying on her side, with his head against her breast. A tiny arm wrapped itself around her stomach, a small hand clutching at the top she was wearing.

"Is he hurting you?" Gabriel whispered in her ear, too quietly for the child to hear.

Her abdomen hurt, but the child's added weight hadn't worsened the pain, so she shook her head.

She knew the child wasn't in perfect health, but it still pleased her that he wasn't in a state that brought children to her court, and he was happy. She would gladly bear the child’s weight, if it meant he would stay as happy as he seemed to be at that moment.

“He could not hurt me if he tried,” she whispered back, smiling weakly at her father as she tried to lessen his concern for her, even though she knew there was little hope in such a thing happening.

Gabriel was frowning, but did not say anything more, as he gently tucked a blanket around the boy’s form, trying his best to make them both comfortable, even as it felt like Hela’s insides were destroying themselves.

And then, something changed.

Slowly, almost so slow that she could not notice, the pain began to fade away.

Unsure as to what was happening, she opened her eyes, shocked to find that the blur had faded, leaving her vision clear once more. But even if her vision hadn’t been clear, there would have been no chance of her not noticing the glow of the boy’s soul, as he slowly began to draw the excess power into himself.

She watched in awe as the power converged underneath Sam’s hand, glowing brighter and brighter with each second, until he was holding all of the power that had been overwhelming her. She watched in shock and awe, as the boy slowly rose from where he was laying, staring at the glowing ball of energy in his hands. After a moment, he closed his eyes, concentrating hard.

Slowly, the energy started to take shape, twisting and forming into a small shape, until the light began to fade away, revealing a small, fluffy puppy, with little wings, sitting between Sam’s hands.

Sam looked up towards Gabriel and Raphael, who were staring at him in shock, before he moved to lay back down on top of Hela, snuggling into her as he fell asleep, the puppy held tightly in his arms.

* * *

“Am I going to have to be the one to ask what the  _ fuck _ just happened?”

Gabriel was pacing around the room he shared with his mate, trying to wrap his head around what had happened.

Not ten minutes ago, he and Raphael were preparing themselves to hold their child as she slowly faded away, and now, she was not only alive and perfectly healthy, but Sam, tiny, injured, amnesiac Sam, had somehow not only managed to take the excess power that was destroying her, but also mold it into something completely new.

They had left the pair alone, resting in Hela’s bed, before leaving to try and figure out what was going on. And Gabriel couldn’t figure it out.

Sam was a human. A human who had been abused and malnourished, and who had potentially, and it was the slimmest possibility, been force fed demon blood as an infant (if his bastard of a sperm donor’s insane ramblings were to be even remotely believed), but still a human. His brother was a human, and there was no sign that either of them would have any kind of power, especially not the kind of power that what Sam had done would have needed.

Not even Gabriel or Raphael, who were Archangels, created from the pure Grace of God, could have done such a thing.

Gabriel was getting more frustrated, but calmed when Raphael wrapped his arms around him from behind. “Relax, Mate,” Raphael whispered, tightening his grasp to keep Gabriel from escaping. “There is no need to become so worked up, when time, and a calm manner will reveal what is happening.”

“How do you know?”

There were the rumblings of a quiet laugh, before Raphael reached to kiss the top of Gabriel’s head. “It is the same as when we first took in our children, and discovered that they had powers that they could not control.”

Gabriel shook his head, a strange kind of panic building within his chest. “But we knew they were Pagan, even back then! Sam and Dean are human!”

“Sam and Dean are children, who are scared, and in a new environment, with people they don’t know, and not knowing if they can trust.” Raphael reminded. “If there is any chance that they may have any power, they may be hiding it until they know that they are to be safe.”

Gabriel sighed, seeing the logic in his mate’s words. “And Sam’s possible powers showed themselves today, because he doesn’t remember to hide them?”

“It’s possible.”

With another sigh, Gabriel nodded, before squirming in Raphael’s grasp, until he had turned around to hug his mate. “I just wish we knew how to help them,” he whispered, eyes burning from the tears he was fighting to hold back.

"All of the children we've raised have come with their own unique challenges, and we were able to help them all in the end. I don't believe this will be any different, even if it might be harder in the beginning." Raphael kissed Gabriel's neck. "Sam saved Hela's life. There's no way we can ever repay that debt, but giving him and his brother the childhood they deserve is as good a place to start as any."

"How did he do it? For that matter,  _ why _ ? He doesn't know us, doesn't know Hela. He doesn't owe us anything. He doesn't even remember we saved his life."

"I don't think it matters," Raphael said, softly. "Maybe to get some idea what power outbursts to expect, but other than that, I'm not so sure. Honestly, I bet it was an instinct. Children are often more empathetic than adults."

Gabriel sighed, soaking in the comfort from his mate for another moment, before pulling away. “I think I have some unfinished business that I need to attend to, before too much longer.”

There was a soft smile upon Raphael’s face, before he reached to kiss Gabriel’s forehead. “At least wait until they’re both awake, so they don’t think you’ve vanished.” With a nod, Gabriel let himself be drawn back into his mate’s arms, before being led over to their bed. “Come, lie with me, before you leave.”

As Raphael began to remove Gabriel’s clothing, the archangel laid back, and let his mate do what he would.

* * *

Lucifer was worried.

He'd been sharing dreams consistently with a little kid for months. And then after a week of nothing, he'd come back.

But something was wrong, so he was worried.

He knew the kid's name was Sam, and he was a little younger than Trixie. But Sam wasn't acting like himself. 

The Sam from a week ago had been rather cheerful, even through his anxiety and concerns, and spoke often of his brother, his dreams of the future, and his wishes for a life of normalcy. Quite mundane wishes, if one were to be honest, but he could admire the simple dreams of innocence, and the quiet longing for change.

The Sam that he had spoken with the night before, however, had been different. There were no more half rambled words, speaking of what he had done that day, what was likely to happen tomorrow, and how there was never any change, though he longed for it.

This Sam, was a quiet, curious seeming boy, who had seemingly no memory of ever having met him before, even if it was only within their strange, shared dreams. Physically, he was exactly the same, with his soft brown hair, his ever shifting eyes, and his quiet, unwavering trust in the once great being.

It was highly concerning, and if Lucifer hadn’t already been looking for the boy after the week of silence, it would have forced him to take action.

The first day of the search had been lost to him, as he’d had to put his affairs in order, asking Maze to watch over Lux for him, informing the detective of his intent to leave Los Angeles for a time, claiming family problems, saying goodbye to the spawn, and waiting for his brother to arrive, and take him to the last place where Sam had mentioned.

Then, an almost frantic, three day long search had taken place, as he looked for any sign of the strange boy amid the rabble of humanity, the filth and desolation of the place where he had been staying, and the stink of fear that surrounded a small clearing in the woods, where there were the remnants of an altar lay.

“Pagans,” he had scoffed, looking over the charred remains of the ingredients for a summoning. “Filthy humans, not knowing to what they call at the best of times, and outright destroying themselves at the worst.”

He’d moved on then, knowing full well that Sam would not be found in this horrible place.

“I don’t understand it,” he mused that evening, as he had sat down in a bar, drinking what had tasted to be little more than piss, and trying to plot his next actions. “He was supposed to be here, and yet there’s no trace of him.”

There was a huff from one of the patrons of the bar, as he raised his glass. “I know how you feel. I was told that I would be getting what I needed, and the bastard abandoned me!”

The man was drunk, that much was obvious. But maybe, Lucifer would be able to use the drunkenness of this pathetic human, if only to gather more information. “Oh? Do tell!”

“He said that he would give me the one that killed my wife, and end the nightmare. But he stole my son, and abandoned me!”

“What a terrible thing, to be so betrayed.” He held no pity for the man, save for the pity of having a son stolen. “Family should never be so torn apart.”

There was a scoff, and the man downed the rest of his drink. “Not much of a family, when you’re being held captive by a monster.”

That made him pause. “A monster? Surely you don’t mean something so cruel and dark as a vampire, or a werewolf? Maybe even a demon, or a shapeshifter?”

“As if it were that simple!” The man was almost shouting now, waving his arms as he did so. “I don’t know what it was, but it was some kind of half boy, half  _ thing _ ,” there was a pause, as the man shuddered, before continuing. “It was doing something, turning my son against me, and I had to get rid of it, but it did something to take my son away too, and now I’m left with nothing.”

“Do you know what it was?”

Few things could crossbreed with humans, and leave distinct ‘halves’. For most creatures, the resulting child would merely be the same as the supernatural parent, and though there was a possibility of minor weaknesses occurring as a result of the human side being stronger, it was still a creature. The child of a vampire and a human was no less of a vampire than if they had been ‘purely bred’, and the same went for all but three creatures.

Only an angel, a demon, or a pagan god could create a child that was considered to be ‘half’.

But there was no way that whatever ‘monster’ the man was speaking of could have been born of any of those.

Nephilim had been forbidden (for some reason he wasn’t aware of), and the last had been born two thousand years ago. Cambion, the children of demons and mortals, weren’t quite so forbidden, but they were highly monitored, and none had been created within the last fifty years. And while demigods were neither forbidden nor discouraged, the age of heroes had faded away, and many gods seemed to vastly prefer merely adopting the abandoned and mistreated children of others, should they long for their own children, especially in the olden days when children would be sacrificed at the drop of a hat, should any ill come upon the community.

The man shrugged, before knocking back yet another drink. “Fuck if I know. All I know is that the thing stole my son, and replaced it with a fucking monster. And now it’s taken the only son I had left, and now I have nothing.”

Lucifer was having trouble following the story the drunk seemed to be telling out of order. "You made the bargain with the creature that replaced your child to find the thing that killed your wife? And it betrayed you?"

"That's not what I said!"

Lucifer was sure the man would have thrown the empty shot glass at him if he hadn't at the last second changed his mind. He raised an eyebrow, and wondered if the man was even capable of telling what had happened. "So what was it?"

"I sacrificed the Cambion that replaced my Sam to Loki because none of the other pagans I summoned wanted to be useful so I killed them. And Loki said he'd give me what I want, because it's what I deserve, in exchange for the destroying demon that killed my wife. But he must have realized the Cambion wasn't my son, and he took Dean too!" 

"You  _ killed _ pagans?" Lucifer's eyes flickered with his fury. The man must have mistaken it for awe because he started  _ naming names _ .  _ With pride. _ It  _ barely  _ registered that this was the sperm donor of the Sam he was looking for.

Lucifer had little care for the overall filth of humanity. He had his favorites, of course, and Lux had been all about what they could do for him. But his giving them what they desired was about the favors they would then owe him, and it was incredibly similar to what the Pagans did.

Not all of the Pagans had started out as old gods. Some of them had been nephilim first. The imbecilic human listing off his kill list- in all likelihood he was confessing to murdering Lucifer’s nieces and nephews.

The archangel wanted very little more than he wanted to smite the human where he sat.

He didn’t know any of his nieces and nephews personally. His being cast out and Heaven seeking their destruction had never allowed for family get togethers. But that didn’t mean he had to sit here and listen to this  _ human  _ going on and on about how amazing he was that he had managed what no other hunter had managed.

For good reason.

Humans and the monsters that preyed on them kept the population of their species in check. Monsters preyed on humans to prevent their populations from causing the destruction of the world, while hunters fought back to prevent the population of monsters from increasing to the point where it could cause human extinction.

Pagans were also vital to the Balance. They performed good acts and less good acts in accordance with their natures, which in turn affected what the humans they had impacted would do.

But killing them off arbitrarily and without restraint- that could start a war. Or worse, completely destroy any semblance of balance on Earth and maybe wipe out all living things.

Lucifer wanted to smite him, but something stopped him.

The soul was marked. At first glance it would have been easy to mistake it as the mark of the Pagan he'd made a deal with, Loki, except that wasn't at all what the mark truly was.

To mark a soul, you had to leave a very tiny piece of yourself behind. It was how you connected yourself to them in a way that allowed you to find them again. Depending on their situation and your purpose, you might leave it forever and it would return to you when they died, or you might use it once at a later time and remove it then. What few knew, was that someone who knew what they were doing could use it to summon the maker of the mark to their location. In a way that couldn't be turned down.

Loki wasn't simply Loki, because the other thing about the mark was that you could not hide your true self from it. As a piece of yourself it might be mostly your newest identity, but it would always identify you, even if there were very few capable of reading that deeply into the mark.

Loki was  _ an archangel _ . He should have been able to tell whether it was Gabriel or Raphael (since he knew what Michael's mark looked like) but in a way it seemed to literally read both of them.

Michael had mentioned exactly once, without any explanation, that Gabriel and Raphael were gone from Heaven, had been since the flood that had supposedly destroyed the Nephilim. (They both knew better. The rest of Heaven did not.) 

He would follow the human to a secluded place, and then he would summon his brother, whichever one it would be.

* * *

Gabriel had reached the point where he never wanted to leave Raphael's arms again. They were still in bed naked, but since the boys had slept longer than they'd anticipated, he'd decided to kill some time by reading the entire journal of one John Winchester.

It made him sick with grief and fury.

He had finished with it awhile ago so it was sitting on their bedside table. He wanted to burn it, but Raphael had not let him. There was information inside they would need to keep.

So Raphael held him close instead, while he'd raged and wept and now as he mourned quietly. He had no more room for anger at this moment, no more tears to shed. 

Raphael was also far from happy, but his mate handled his emotions differently.

"I love you," Gabriel whispered, voice hoarse. For all that he felt empty from the grief and anger, Raphael's support of him had always been infinite, and wrapped in Raphael's arms, he could feel the love thrumming through their graces.

Raphael purred and kissed his neck. Then he wrapped his wings around them both like the biological blanket that it was, and kissed him more.

* * *

Gabriel had exactly enough time to get dressed before he was summoned by John Winchester's mark.

He had no idea who had summoned him through the mark, only that they had power. The most likely culprit was a pagan, although there was a mystery there as to why at other pagan would have tracked down John Winchester. Unless someone else had found out about all the pagans he'd killed.

Gabriel still wasn't happy that he was being summoned. Worse, he had no idea what he was walking into. Even worse yet, he couldn't resist this kind of summoning.

He could resist a normal Loki summoning because he wasn't really Loki. In fact, Loki had been a young nephil who had died in his arms more than a thousand years before at the hands of his own pantheon. Blaming the presence of reincarnated nephilim as the reason for Christianity's influence on their pantheon, Odin had taken it into his head to "purify" his court.

The archangel would have annihilated the entire Norse Pantheon if Raphael had not stopped him. Loki's death had been tragic, but worse had been Odin's torture of Loki's children.

This summoning he could not avoid because no matter how hard he might try to hide his status as an archangel it was still present in the mark he used. Just as he could use it to locate his targets, so too could it be used to pull him there.

But only by someone who really knew what they were doing, which was what really scares him. There should have been very few who knew how to do it.

Resisting was not an option, and so he ended up in a secluded area. One John Winchester unconscious on the ground, and one…

"Lucifer."

Gabriel swallowed. His older brother had been cast out for so long, he had only not forgotten their shared childhood because archangels were incapable of forgetting.

But Lucifer looked exactly as he had in Heaven. That much was true.

"Gabriel."

Lucifer's tone was infinitely softer than Gabriel could have believed Lucifer capable of.

He couldn't stop the tears. It had been a hard day and he didn't want to be here.

Lucifer hugged his little brother. He hadn't really thought about the other angels, but Michael had mentioned that Gabriel and Raphael were just  _ gone _ .

The two younger archangels had not handled the fighting well, and Lucifer couldn't blame them for that. But Michael had had no idea where they had gone or what might have happened and he'd tried to share his older brother's concern. 

“Gabriel, where have you two been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you, ever since I came to earth, and started living among the humans.” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to scare his brother any more than he likely already had.

“You were fighting all the time!” Gabriel was sobbing now, clutching the back of Lucifer’s jacket tightly enough that he was almost concerned that it would rip. “You’re supposed to be mates, but you were fighting!”

Lucifer sighed, ashamed that this was the memory that he had left his brother with. Not memories of the happiness that they had shared within their home, but the memories of the constant fights, the shouted words, and the bitter accusations, fueled by the Lucifer’s fear and frustration that the love everyone had (or was supposed to have) for humanity meant there would be no love left for him.

“Gabe, love, that had nothing to do with us being mates. Sometimes, those in relationships, whether a mateship, or a marriage, have fights. Sometimes, there are only disagreements, and sometimes, there are relationships like the one you have with Raph, where you both are able to talk things out without needing to reach the point of fighting. The fact that Michael and I were fighting just means that we had problems that we needed to talk about, long before we reached the point we did. Understand?”

Lucifer could feel Gabriel nodding, but he wasn’t fully convinced that his brother believed him. He would just have to tell his brother again, until he did. As it was, he could feel the younger archangel shaking, almost certain that if he weren’t holding him in an embrace, he would have collapsed. With a sigh, Lucifer raised a hand to run his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, attempting to comfort his brother as best as he could. “Do you want me to call Raphael for you?”

There was a pause, before Gabriel slowly shook his head. “He needs to take care of them,” Gabriel whispered, voice shaking from the emotions flooding through him.

“Take care of who?”

Gabriel was shaking his head again, but it only made Lucifer worry more. What was Raphael taking care of? And what usage of the phrase was the correct one? Was he caring for someone in the traditional sense, or had his brothers been in more danger than he’d ever thought? Lucifer had no idea, and he just hoped that they had managed to be safe while he was away.

Thinking back to the things that the unconscious human had said, Lucifer stiffened, before pulling away slightly, lifting Gabriel's chin until his younger brother was looking him in the eyes. "Gabriel, are you alright? Have you and Raphael been safe? I know that several of the pagan gods have been murdered recently, and that you were acting as one."

Gabriel looked away, sniffling as he began to speak. "We've been safe. We have a house, and a handful of places to go if anything happens.” He moved to wipe at his eyes, a small smile upon his face. “Picked up a few kids along the way, made a name for ourselves in the whole pagan community, especially after what one of the old gods tried to do.”

Lucifer nodded. “I can see you two enjoying parenthood.”

“They’re good kids,” Gabriel kept smiling, even as he looked back towards Lucifer. “You would like them.”

“I would love to meet them, should you allow it, and they wish to meet as well.”

A moment of silence passed, before Lucifer sighed. “You know that I’m going to need to ask what happened, and why this human bears your mark.”

Gabriel’s smile fell, and Lucifer watched as his brother pulled away, arms wrapping around his torso in an attempt to comfort himself. “You know how I’ve been acting as Loki?” When Lucifer nodded, he continued. “Well, that means I sometimes get summoned, the same as any other pagan would. And this last time, I was summoned by  _ him _ .”

Gabriel was nodding towards John, as he continued. “When I appeared, he was standing in the middle of a summoning circle, with a small child lying on a makeshift altar in front of him.” Gabriel shuddered, and for a moment, Lucifer was worried that whatever his brother was about to tell him would be one of the most difficult things he would hear.

“The boy was naked, covered in bruises and bumps, with a cut on his head, and a severe concussion that almost killed him. Not to mention he was severely hypothermic and had been given enough tranquilizer to down an adult.” Gabriel took another shuddering breath, as if preparing himself for something even worse. “It wasn’t hard to tell where the injuries came from, even before he started going on about how his kid had been ‘stolen’ by some monster, and how whatever monster had killed his wife, and then, he had the audacity to bargain his son, for the death of whatever had killed her, as if he wasn’t the one to have done it in some drunken rage.”

Lucifer’s heart broke, as he thought about the small, cheerful boy who had been sharing his dreams for almost a year, imagining that same boy in the situation wherein Gabriel had been summoned to. It almost made him sick to think about, and he found that he had to fight to keep from being visited again by the lunch he’d had before coming to this god forsaken town. He wanted Gabriel to stop talking, wanted to know no more about the hell that the child had been through.

But he needed to know.

“Is the boy safe?”

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, for the moment. He’s with Raph, and he’s doing better physically. Mentally?” he sighed, before shaking his head. “He has no memory of anything from before he woke up yesterday, and we only have an idea as to who he is at all, because his brother found his way to a court and bargained his way into the good graces of one of the kids we took in, and she brought him home.”

Lucifer nodded, fully intent on asking another question, before an all too familiar feeling in the back of his mind awoke, and he felt the difficult to resist pull towards the mindspace that he shared with Sam.

“Give me a moment, I need to process this,” he mumbled, grasping for any reasonable excuse as to why he would need a moment of silence, before he dove into the mindspace, desperate for any answers that he would be able to find.

He opened his eyes, taking in the details of the cozy room he found himself in.

It was a rather spacious living room, with a lit fireplace on one wall, a guard in place to prevent stray hands from wandering too far, several plush looking couches filling the room, surrounding a table of dark mahogany, which was covered almost entirely with books, blankets, and other such items that never failed to transform a house into a home. Atop the mantle of the fireplace, there were numerous pictures of children and teenagers, all of which seemed to be lacking in any true detail, the same as the books on the table held no titles or cover images, and would certainly be blank, should he seek to open one.

But for as beautiful as the room may have been, he had no care for it. Instead, his focus and attention was locked upon the small boy who was sitting on one of the couches, wrapped in a soft red blanket, holding in his arms an equally small puppy, who seemed to have wings sprung from its back.

It was Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There's some spoilers for season 3 of Lucifer in regards to Lucifer's wings growing back and his insistence on cutting them off again. There's also a slightly graphic scene of him trying to repeat this, but unsuccessfully. (Nor will he, I swear there will be significantly more fluff in the next chapter).

“Hello there, Sam.”

Sam looked up at the one who had talked, the confusion from all day vanishing at the sight of the only person he knew he’d seen at least once before.

“You were there when I was asleep last time.”

“I was.”

Sam watched as the person moved, until they were sitting on the floor in front of him, continuing to talk. “I was there with you before then, too, and the time before, and many other times. For almost a year, you and I have been connected, and nearly every night, we have been sharing our dreams.”

The person stopped talking, and Sam watched them, until the puppy he was holding barked, flying out of Sam’s arms, and towards the person. When it seemed that there would be no anger towards the small creature, Sam spoke.

“I don’t remember ever seeing you.” Not that he remembered much of anything.

The person looked sad, but Sam kept talking. “But they said that I might remember later, so maybe I could know who you are then?”

The person was reaching out then, until they were holding Sam’s hands in theirs. “Samuel, it doesn’t matter that you don’t remember. What matters is that you are safe, and that you are alive.”

* * *

Gabriel was confused.

Lucifer didn't  _ lie _ . Perhaps by omission, but never outright. He got around it by stating the truth in unbelievable ways when necessary. 

Merely processing all he had learned? Nope. That was  _ not _ what he was doing. But he was definitely processing  _ something _ .

If Gabriel didn't know better, he'd say Lucifer was sleeping. His brother was still standing in front of him, but he'd gone unnaturally still. Deathlike. 

He sat down, accepting that he could ask all the questions he wanted to when Lucifer "came back". He looked around, and as his gaze hit the Winchester, he realized that while Lucifer knew why  _ he _ had targeted the human, he had no idea what Lucifer's interest in him  _ or Sam _ was.

_ "Gabriel? Are you okay?" _

Raphael's quiet voice was worried, but it was also soft and soothed in a way nothing else could.

They rarely communicated this way. Not for fear of being overheard, but because he and Raphael didn't usually exchange words while the other was doing a quick Pagan Errand. The capacity to feel the other's love through the bond was usually enough. And they had so much trust in each other.

But he  _ had _ been summoned a little quicker than he'd intended to leave.

" _ I'm okay. But Raph… Lucifer is  _ here _ . _ "

_ "Are you really okay?" Unasked, You're not just saying that? "Do you want me to come?" _

Gabriel did want Raphael. But he was an adult. And more importantly, a parent with children at home who needed Raphael more than he did.  _ "That's okay. I'm okay."  _ _ _

_ "Gabriel, if you need me, I will come." _

_ "I know." _ Gabriel sighed. A quick glance at Lucifer revealed that his older brother was still wherever he was in his head.  _ "The kids… are they okay?" _

Gabriel could almost feel Raphael's smile, as if his mate was standing just out of sight behind him, in his space.  _ "Sam fell asleep again. His little puppy too. I think they're sharing a pleasant dream." _

_ "Raph… What could have brought Lucifer to John Winchester? He knew pagans were killed, likely because Winchester told him, but no one else knows about that yet." _

_ "Why don't you ask Lucifer?" _ Raphael sounded non judgemental, maybe just a little confused.

_ "He's... well, I'm not sure. It's like he's in a trance. Not quite like he's entirely focused on, say, a private communication link." _

Raphael hummed, but didn't offer a response.

Gabriel was content to just wait, and then Lucifer was blinking.

“Apologies,” Lucifer started, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and then, without considering the consequences, he took Raphael's advice. "I want to know how you came across John Winchester, why you had anything to do with this unfortunate piece of trash. Raphael says that instead of trying to ponder your motive myself, that I should just ask you."

"I was looking for-"

There was a flash of light interrupting Lucifer, and then just as suddenly, Sam appeared in Lucifer’s arms, along with his puppy.

“Samuel?” Lucifer gasped, and Gabriel’s eyes widened in horror as the boy looked up at Lucifer, smiling widely.

“I found you!”

“It would seem you have.”

Gabriel’s head was spinning. How did Sam know Lucifer? Sam couldn’t remember anything from before he had awoken in their home, and since then, there hadn’t been a moment where he had been out of their sight for more than a moment, so when would he have had any chance to meet him? Had Lucifer somehow done something to erase all of Sam’s memories, save for those of himself? But Raphael had confirmed that there had been absolutely nothing left in Sam’s mind, save for a blank slate.

So how did Sam know who Lucifer was?  _ Did _ he know who he was? Or was he just under the assumption that he was a friend or guardian, the same as Gabriel and Raphael had become to him and his brother?

Was Lucifer acting to gain Sam’s trust, to gain Gabriel’s trust, to be able to hurt him?  _ Would he try to hurt Raphael again? _

But Lucifer was speaking again.

“How did you manage to get here, Samuel?”

“I woke up and you weren’t there, and then I wanted you, but then I was here!”

Sam was talking, sounding so happy, so satisfied, that Gabriel was growing more and more concerned that the boy was being manipulated, or otherwise coerced into being there. “Sam, you should be home, with your brother.”

Sam was looking back towards Gabriel then, a frown on his face as he pouted. “But I wanna be here, with you.”

“This isn’t a discussion, Sam.”

“Gabriel, I do not mind Samuel’s presence here.”

Gabriel looked towards Lucifer, glaring at his brother, as he lifted Sam away from him. “I already said that this isn’t a discussion. That goes for you as well, and any others who manage to find us here. Let me parent my child, the way I see to be proper.”

Lucifer seemed to be taken aback, but Gabriel didn’t take notice, as he was holding Sam, trying to reach out to call his mate to come collect the boy. “But I wanna stay!” Sam was whining, even as he complied with Gabriel’s gentle pushing to his head, keeping him from taking any notice of the unconscious man lying on the ground.

“I know, but you need to listen when I tell you things. I’m trying to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you don’t listen to me.” Gabriel knew that it wasn’t the best time to have the discussion about parental responsibility, and when Sam would need to listen without question, but he couldn’t think of any other way to keep him calm.

Sam hadn't seemed to remember anything before waking up, but the last thing they needed was for him to notice John Winchester or for the presence of the poor excuse of a sperm donor to bring back anything from the subconscious. It would be better for everyone, especially Sam, if John's existence and the terrible things had done, especially to his children, were entirely wiped from Sam's mind as they suspected.

The child whined again, shifting as though trying to look towards Lucifer. It reminded him that he still needed to find out exactly what had been going on between them and how, but Gabriel was saved from having to pursue that right away because right then, Raphael arrived.

"Lucifer," Raphael greeted formally. Gabriel needed no greeting, Raphael was here because he had been following the path the child had left behind, but Gabriel's call had been faster.

"Raphael," Lucifer responded in like.

The formality was not cold, but it lacked all warmth they had once shared. But what was done was done.

Raphael was standing in front of John Winchester such that he blocked any way for Sam to see him from Gabriel's arms, and Gabriel was thankful. 

"Raphi!" Sam exclaimed as Gabriel shifted the child and passed him, along with his puppy, off to his mate. "You're here too!"

"I am," Raphael rumbled quietly. "Can I take you home? Your vanishing scared your brother a lot. I think he'd like to see you safe and sound."

“Safe here,” Sam grumbled.

“Be that as it may, your brother doesn’t know that.” Sam wasn’t the first stubborn child that he and Gabriel had ever raised. And the odds were that he wouldn’t be the last one, either.

“De come here?!” Sam grinned, eyes lighting up at what he thought was a brilliant idea.

“No.” Raphael’s voice was firm, but not harsh. “I’m going to take you home. Gabriel and Lucifer have unfinished business here, and I think you and I should go back home so we’re not in the way. And you would have more fun playing with Dean and your puppy than listen to the adults talk, wouldn’t you?”

“Luci come too?”

How were they supposed to explain to Sam exactly why Lucifer was not welcome in their home, and why he likely would never be welcome there?

Sam was a small child, there was no reason for them to tell him about the beginning, and why they were so hesitant to trust Lucifer again.

He'd burned everyone around him once. He might have changed, but he hadn't proved that to them yet. And until he had Connor they couldn't trust him with their children.

Their kids have been through too much to risk whether or not Lucifer was a safe attachment for them to make.

"Probably not today, Kiddo," Gabriel said gently. "Luci and I have a lot of things to do, and it'll probably be too late for company by the time we're done."

"But why!" Sam screamed. "Want De and Luci and everyone!"

"I'm sorry, Sam. That's just how it has to be." Raphael shifted, ruffling the feathers of his wings, which weren't visible but could still be felt by the other archangels, and Sammy, in preparation for taking flight.

Even though their wings weren't on the physical plane, that didn't mean that the archangels didn't know that they were there or reacted to it.

The ruffling of Raphael feathers was less necessary to the flight and more Angelic body language. It was a goodbye. Temporary though it might be, it was nonetheless a goodbye.

Gabriel's wings shifted with a returning goodbye. It was familial, almost flirting, and far more than anything he'd ever used with the other archangels even when everything has been good.

Lucifer made no such sound or motion in return, and for the first time, Raphael and Gabriel realized the Lucifer  _ didn't have wings.  _ And they had no idea what had happened to them.

Sam shifted, this time fully able to fully look back at Lucifer, and he whined.

Raphael rubbed Sam's back, uncertain as to what exactly had upset the child. He was already upset about Lucifer being unable to come with them, but Sam throwing a temper tantrum wasn't going to make them change their minds about that, though he was also pretty sure that wasn't Sam's intent.

So what had upset Sam? He was upset that they were about to leave, but he hadn't whined at Lucifer until… until Lucifer failed to return the nonverbal goodbye.

Sure, it would have been the height of rudeness if it was intentional, but now that he was giving a deeper study to Lucifer's form, it was clear his older brother didn't have his wings at all any more.

And for all that Raphael would have really liked a greater explanation for and about that, he didn't get the opportunity because Lucifer's wings started growing back. But not just one pair in the sparkly pink color they had been at the last time Raphael had seen them.

In an instant, Lucifer had grown an uncountable number of pristine white wings. They were all on the physical plane, and Raphael had difficulty understanding how any anatomy could allow for it.

Sam giggled, and he held out his arms toward Lucifer.

Gabriel also looked amused, and Raphael couldn't blame him for that. He didn't feel amused, but he was a little busy trying to corral the he squirming baby in his arms and the expression on Lucifer's face was filled with such horror and  _ pain, _ but not anger, and before anyone could gather themselves enough to say something, Lucifer flew away.

_ "Now what?"  _ Gabriel asked silently to Raphael.

Sammy whined, and Raphael realized that if he didn't do something, Sam would just follow Lucifer. They would have to decide exactly what to do, about the relationship between them later, but that would have to wait. 

Raphael was more concerned that whatever had happened to Lucifer before, that he might try something drastic.  _ Had he cut his own wings off? Repeatedly? Had Sam merely regenerated all of the wings Lucifer had ever had? Or did Sam just have some association with wings, and had done to Lucifer as he had to his puppy except to a greater extent? _

_ “I’m concerned about what happened to his wings to start with. I think I need to follow him and make sure he’s not about to do something drastic.”  _ Raphael tightened his grip on Sam. “Sam, Sweetheart, I need you to hold still.”

“Luci!” Sam screamed, this time, fighting harder to get out of Raphael’s grip. His thrashing caused him to elbow Raphael in the nose. “Raphi, down!”

“Sam, Lucifer went home. Gabriel is going to take you home, and we might reconsider letting Lucifer visit, but right now, I need you to behave. Can you do that for me?”

Sam mumbled his agreement. He even settled down in Raphael’s arms, though he was still pouting.

_ “Are you going to be okay following Lucifer?”  _ Gabriel’s silent question was asked as he took the child from Raphael’s arms. He wasn’t asking if Raphael was sure about this because it wasn’t really his place to do so. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t worried that this would be used by Lucifer as an opportunity to hurt Raphael all over again. Even so, Gabriel trusted his mate, and if this was what he wanted, he wouldn’t stop him.

_ “I need to find out what happened. I also know you and Lucifer still need to deal with the Winchester, but Lucifer did not seem pleased about this and I want to understand. I am also genuinely concerned about what drastic action he might take.” _

Gabriel nodded, as Raphael used just the slightest amount of his grace to keep Sam tethered to Gabriel such that he shouldn’t be able to take off again all on his own. Neither of them had any reason to fear Sam’s power, but it would not be convenient if the child again decided to just disappear to an entirely different part of the world. He was far too young to be running around all by himself, especially right now before they had ensured that he was safe.

With that Gabriel flew with the child to one location, and a moment later Raphael flew to a different location himself. It didn’t matter that he’d never been to the place where Lucifer had flown. It was so recent that Raphael could simply follow the path he had taken, and hope that his fears about the things that may have happened were incorrect. But deep down, he knew that the reasons he feared were not improbable.

* * *

Lucifer wasn't  _ crying _ , or so he told himself. It was merely a side effect of flying for the first time since he'd left Hell in favor of Earth, the second time since he'd been cast out of Heaven. He did the thing that he had once always been able to do when he was upset.

He went straight to Michael. No one else knew, as far as he was aware, that Michael was actually on Earth. In L.A., in fact.

There was no angel whose given name was Amenadiel. It should have been hilarious that the humans even thought it was a normal name. But in actuality, it was a name Michael had chosen for a low profile. And Samael had been the secret name Michael had chosen for him. He had been so angry when Linda had used it because it wasn't a name  _ for  _ anyone else to use, let alone humans who ought to have never known. It it was supposed to be simply between himself and his first mate.

So he flew straight for Michael, without any consideration of whether or not it would be convenient. Fortunately, Michael was alone in Lux's penthouse.

"Lucifer? Are you okay?"

Lucifer grabbed Maze's spare set of knives out of the drawer. And a bottle of whiskey for good measure. "Stupid mud monkeys and their stupid all powerful children and why can't they just let me have what I want?!" He tore the top off the bottle and took a very large gulp from it. There were so many fucking wings and he didn't want  _ any _ of them and he just wanted any one person in the universe to respect his right to bodily autonomy. 

There were so many wings and he couldn't just cut them all off in a single stroke and it angered him. Maybe he didn't deserve "peace on Earth" after the things he'd done, but why did it have to be so hard for him to get it anyway?

Some peace and quiet. That was all he wanted. Peace, quiet, and some bodily autonomy.

"Lucifer? What happened?"

"I found Raphael and Gabriel. Mostly by accident. And the kid I was looking for apparently thought he should fix my wings or something. Who knows why. I don't fucking  _ want  _ them! They're nothing but trouble." 

Michael selected a bottle of alcohol from behind the bar, and then he took a seat where he could watch his mate, who was still waving the knife around. He didn’t really want to watch as his mate did this to himself all over again, but if this was what Lucifer really wanted, was he supposed to stand in the way of that? They’d been through this so many times the previous year, he’d been relieved for Lucifer’s sake when they’d just… stopped growing back.

And here they were,  _ again _ , because of some  _ kid _ .

There were far too many wings for Lucifer to make any nice cuts as he had before. Whereas he had become quite adept at removing the whole wing with a single cut, he couldn’t reach. He nicked himself, and frustration led to anger, which led to the feathers and blood splattered across the floor.

And yet all the wings remained firmly attached to his back.

Michael had to look away. He had never been able to bring himself to give Lucifer what he had exclaimed to need over and over again, but this was heartbreaking.

There was the distinct sound of wings, but definitely not Lucifer taking flight. 

“Oh, Lucifer.” Horrified, nauseated. A voice that Michael had not heard in millenia since he’d tried and failed to convince his little brother to not leave Heaven for good.

Michael turned around to find Lucifer and Raphael in some kind of staring contest.

“Oh, good,” Lucifer said. “You here to fix the mess the kid made? I seem to be having some trouble. I can’t seem to be able to reach.”

Raphael swallowed, the horrified expression on his face only strengthening as he was able to take in the full quantity of feathers and blood coating the floor. “If you still want this after we’ve cleaned up and I’ve fixed the damage you’ve done, and you’ve talked about what you truly want, not your emotions, I can remove them for you and ensure they won’t grow back ever again unless it’s what you genuinely desire.”

“You would do that for me?”

Raphael nodded. "As long as we can both be rational about it. Why don't you go wash up." He glanced at Michael out of the corner of his eye. "Michael and I can clean the floor up."

"We can?" Michael blinked at Raphael through the tumbler of alcohol he was drinking out of. "That doesn't sound like very much fun."

The healer raised an eyebrow at Michael as Lucifer headed off likely in the direction of a shower, hopefully, with the knives. Which was still concerning.

Raphael snapped the mess away.

_ "Is everything okay there?" _ Gabriel.

_ "How will I know?"  _ Raphael sat down on one of the barstools next to Michael.  _ "Lucifer was mutilating his poor wings and I'm pretty sure Michael is plastered. Gabe, what did we do wrong?"  _

_ "It wasn't our responsibility. It is not on us. Wait. Michael is there?!" _

_ "Yeah. I think he's been here awhile, he's in disguise." _

_ "And they're not fighting? Huh. And you're okay?" _

Raphael sighed.  _ "There as so much blood and so many feathers and- he wants them gone so badly, I didn't have a choice but to tell him I'd do it if he truly wants them gone. Someone might say the revenge should be sweet, but… This was never what I wanted. Maybe it won't be what he really wants, but how am I to know?" _

_ "What do you need?" _ Gabriel could have asked if Raphael wanted him to come, but Gabriel had even less desire to be anywhere near that and it probably wasn't what he needed.

_ "I don't know." _

"Michael?" Raphael asked quietly. "Has Lucifer done this before?"

Michael nodded sadly. "They grew back so many times last year. None of his friends would do it, so he cut them off himself so many times. It was odd, though. Had cut them off when he came to Earth and they hadn't grown back. Not until last year. And then finally, they just stopped growing back."

And now they were all back because of Sam.

_ "I think Sam caused every single pair of wings Lucifer has ever cut off to grow back." _

"Gossiping about me?"

Lucifer returned, looking much cleaner. He still had the blades, but there was no further damage to his wings.

"I was hoping to understand whether all the wings were because Sam loves wings, or because of something else."

"Trixie loves wings too." For a moment, there was a wistful expression on Lucifer's face, but then it was gone.

Raphael hoped there was something he could work with there. He hoped that maybe Lucifer talking about his feelings would sway him into not further mutilating his wings. "What do  _ you  _ want, Lucifer?"

Lucifer sat down on the floor. "I want everyone else to just stop trying to push their ideas about my wings onto me. I _ need _ the option to have wings to be  _ my choice. _ Not Dad's, not Michael's, not yours.  _ Mine. _ "

For all that the very thought of Lucifer cutting off his own wings sickened Raphael, he thought that maybe he could see where Lucifer was coming from, at least from the point of bodily autonomy. Which was important, but did it have to come at the expense of all those wings? With a deep breath, he asked the question Michael's explanation had not answered and Lucifer's word choice hinted at. "Lucifer, did someone make you feel like it couldn't be your choice?" He didn't think it had been himself, or Michael, as Michael would not have been watching stoically as Lucifer had tried if he had not accepted Lucifer's right to choose.

"I didn't want them to be used to force me back into Hell. Cutting them off the first time meant I couldn't go back.  _ I don't want to go back _ . I've been up here for years, it's been splendid, I love this new life so  _ much _ . But then last year they started growing back. And they kept growing back. And I was so  _ scared _ . It felt like I was being told that the life I had made for myself was no longer mine to have. It doesn't matter that I don't deserve this existence,  _ it's mine _ ."

Maybe it wasn't about the wings at all, Raphael realized. Maybe it was about what they  _ represented _ . But would it be possible to prove to Lucifer sufficiently that the wings didn't have to mean a loss of the new life he'd chosen for himself?

_ "Gabriel, can we talk about whether or not we would allow Michael and Lucifer to spend the night in our home?" _

_ "If they're a danger to our kids, or to you, the answer is no." _

_ "Lucifer is technically a danger to himself. But I don't think he's going to hurt anyone else. I don't know if it'll work, but I have an idea. I don't know how I'll be able to bring myself to cut them if it comes to that. " _

It wasn't much of an idea. But if a fool's hope could convince Lucifer to accept his wings so he didn't have to fulfill his side of the bargain to cut them off, he had to try. "Michael, Lucifer, would you both be inclined to spend the night at the house Gabriel and I live in?"

“Did you not tell Sam that’s not an option?” Lucifer asked.

Raphael swallowed. “Spend the night tonight, at my house. Sleep on whether or not you truly want your wings gone, and if you still want them gone tomorrow, I’ll do it. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of making your calm decision today. But today has been emotionally charged for all of us, and more time to think on this situation, for both of us, can only be beneficial.”

“Fine then.” Lucifer got up and walked away from them, but didn’t leave their sight. He was pacing, more or less.

“Do you really think whatever you’re planning will work?” Michael whispered to Raphael. “I tried so hard to reach him, but nothing worked.”

“I don’t know what made Sam regenerate all of them, I don’t know how he was able to do it. I am hoping that whatever reason there was behind it, it changes Lucifer’s mind. Kids… are just so capable of changing people in ways they never imagined possible.”

“From the mouth of babes,” Michael agreed. “For your sake, I hope it works. I don’t envy you.”

And with that, Raphael led the way and introduced his older brothers to the house he and Gabriel had been raising children in for millenia. He guided them to a guest room where they should be undisturbed by anyone, and then joined his own mate in their bed.

“Raphi?”

“Hold me?” Raphael asked, finally losing his composure and sobbing into Gabriel’s chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Raphael fell asleep in Gabriel's arms. It wasn't very late in the evening by human standards, but the two small children didn't have an actual sleep schedule yet and the rest of them were happy to sleep whenever they felt like it or needed it.

And if Raphael needed a nap after delaying a possible inevitability with Lucifer that Gabriel didn't understand yet, he deserved it.

Gabriel was dozing when the door creaked open. He wasn't inclined to be completely unawares with the older siblings he hadn't seen in millennia sleeping under his roof. They had not yet proved they could be trusted with the children. All indications suggested they were also asleep, but he still wasn't letting his guard down.

He sat up slowly, identifying quickly who it was at the door. "Dean?" He kept his voice down so as not to wake Raphael yet. It would depend entirely on what Dean needed as to whether or not he would wake his mate.

There was a sniffle.

Even though it was dark except for the light coming from down the hallway, Gabriel didn't need it to be able to see that Dean's face was wet with tears. He nudged Raphael. "Dean, kiddo, what's wrong?"

"It's nothin," Dean whispered, too quickly. "'m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." 

"Dean, Sweetheart." Raphael's voice was hoarse from sleeping and his own tears from earlier. "It's okay. We're here for you. If something is bothering you, you can tell us."

Dean hiccupped, and then he started sobbing.

Gabriel stood up slowly, delaying to see if Dean was going to run and considering what he would do if Dean  _ did  _ run away, but even as Gabriel approached slowly as he would if he were trying to keep from startling an injured wild animal. But Dean didn’t seem inclined to run, just standing there sobbing, and then, surprising Gabriel, reaching out to him in the universe sign of “Up!” as he drew closer.

There was not so much as a flinch from the child as Gabriel scooped Dean up. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck and sobbed into his neck. Gabriel rubbed his back and whispered soothing things, but didn’t once try to dissuade him from crying. He walked back over to the bed and sat down next to Raphael. 

Raphael reached out, not to take Dean from Gabriel, but rather in an attempt to comfort him by showing that he was there as well. "Can you tell us what happened, Sweetheart?" 

But Dean was shaking his head, gasping for breath around his sobs, even as he clung to Gabriel, as if terrified that he would be torn away from them at any moment. The mated pair looked at each other with concern in their eyes, as they both tried to figure out what was causing the boy so much pain and fear.

_ “This is not the result of a simple bad dream,” _ Raphael whispered across their connection, clearly shoving his exhaustion to the side in order to deal with Dean’s problems, which Gabriel wasn’t happy about, but he would talk with his mate about such things later.

_ “I know. But unless he can calm down, we won’t be able to help him.” _

Raphael didn't offer a solution, but Gabriel didn't really expect his exhausted mate to find one. Besides, he may have already thought of one. Dean was scared and wanted to be held, and he was starting to think that Dean's intention behind entering their room was that it was safe. Even with them asleep, Dean must have decided that if anywhere was safe, it would be their room. Maybe just listening to their calm would help.

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy who could turn into a wolf," Gabriel whispered.

Without ceasing his sobbing, Dean shifted slightly to stare at Gabriel's face, which Gabriel took as a win.

"This little boy had two fathers who loved him very much. Sometimes, he would have really bad screaming nightmares about something happening to his little sister. She was fine, but that didn't always help with the subconscious fears."

Dean sniffled. "Did something help with Fen's nightmares?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow at Gabriel, and then gently rubbed Dean's arm. "He talked about them, and we found him sleeping in Hela's crib for awhile, and they slept in here with us for awhile too, because they needed it to feel safe. They still have nightmares sometimes, but less as time has gone on."

"So it does get easier?"

"It does," Gabriel promised. "Do you want to tell us about it?"

Dean squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head sharply against Gabriel's shirt.

"It took a few years for Hela to catch up with her brothers in growth," Raphael said, starting a new story. "So this one time the boys were running around outside as they played this game. Hela toddled after them, but she wasn't really big enough to run with them. So Fenrir shifted into his wolf form, which was smaller then than it is now, and he let her climb him like a pony. And they had so much fun. We weren't outside with them at the time, but Hela's laughter drew us outside as we were concerned something had happened. But they were just happy."

Dean had stopped sobbing, but he was still pressed as close to Gabriel as he could get. "I had a nightmare," he whispered into Gabriel. They would have had trouble hearing if not for their perfect celestial hearing.

"Do you want to tell us about it?" Gabriel asked, careful to keep his voice soft, and the tone neutral. It wouldn’t do any good to have spent so much time trying to calm Dean down, only for him to freeze up because he felt pressured.

“I was back at that motel, and it was dark,” Dean started, shuddering softly as he remembered whatever he had seen. “I was by myself, and I couldn’t find Sammy.” There was a pause, as Dean flinched, somehow burrowing impossibly closer into Gabriel’s chest.

“What happened next?” Raphael asked, and Gabriel took a moment to smile at his mate, for taking the role of the questioner, so that he could focus on comforting Dean. It would run the risk of Dean thinking that Raphael was mean, but it would likely be worth the chance to be able to learn what was bothering him.

“My dad came. He had Sammy with him, but it was all wrong,” another pause, but he continued after a moment. “He was holding Sammy, but he never does that. He always makes Sammy walk, like a big boy, but he’s so small, he can’t keep up!”

“He is pretty small,” Gabriel agreed, wanting to try and keep Dean on track, but at the same time, not wanting to make him feel like his thoughts and opinions weren’t valued.

“Yeah. But then my dad threw Sammy onto the bed, like he was a bag, and Sammy was just laying there, and-”

As Dean’s voice broke, Gabriel and Raphael shared another look. They didn’t like where this was going. At all. They already had a sickening suspicion as to what Dean had dreamed, and the way that the boy was sobbing wasn’t helping matters, even as they tried to calm him down.

“It’s ok, Dean, Sammy is safe, I promise,” Raphael was whispering, as Gabriel ran a gentle hand up and down Dean’s back, while his other hand found its way into the boy’s hair, carefully scratching at his scalp.

“It’s not ok!” Dean gasped, as the side of Gabriel’s neck grew more and more damp from his tears. “He killed Sammy!”

Gabriel froze. He stared down at Dean, who was sobbing hysterically, entirely uncertain as to what to do. The conclusion of the nightmare hadn’t been as horrifying as he had feared, especially after everything that the boys’ father had mentioned about Sam before he had taken the boy.

But it was still likely that if anything  _ had _ happened, it had been while Dean wasn’t looking.

Even so though, it was also possible that Dean didn’t know about those kinds of things yet, and right now could literally not fathom anything being scarier than John killing Sam.

There were many things worse than death. But Gabriel was infinitely older than the small child, who had no reason to know of such things yet.

"Sammy's okay," Raphael promised. "He's sleeping, right now, but do you want to go see him?" At Dean’s shaky nod, Raphael smiled, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll bring him here.”

Pausing just long enough to share a kiss with his mate, Raphael stood from their bed. He had felt an itch earlier, which he suspected was probably Sammy wandering around the house, so while he was going to check the crib first, he already knew Sam probably wasn't there. But he checked there first.

Raphael didn't know where Sam had slept before, but the crib seemed like a good place to start since he couldn't remember anyway. It should also feel like a safe place.

Sam was not in his crib. Or in the room with his crib. He was also not in the living room, where Jor, Fen, and Sleipnir were playing a board game while Hela dozed on the sofa.

"Is everything okay in here?" Raphael whispered. "Do you guys want anything?"

The three boys shook their heads. Hela blinked sleepily. “We’re fine, Momma. Go find the baby.” She yawned, and then seemed to go back to sleep, curling slightly into the back of the sofa.

Raphael smiled widely at the four children, the first of the children he and Gabriel had raised, and then he wandered off to the room he had left Michael and Lucifer in because he was pretty sure that if Sam had gone anywhere, he’d be with them.

He was correct.

The door was ajar, likely from when Sam had slipped inside, so he was able to enter without waking Lucifer, who was still asleep. Michael was not asleep. He was lying quietly, simply watching as Sam pet Lucifer’s wings in his sleep. Lucifer’s wings were wrapped around himself like a blanket, and Sam was sleeping, having curled himself between the layers.

The Healer couldn’t keep the smile on his face from growing.

_ “Is this what you wanted?”  _ Michael’s silent query was not unexpected, but it still caused Raphael’s face to fall.

How long had it been since they had all communicated freely in this way? They had been young and in love, and it had been  _ beautiful _ . Up until it had ended as explosively as everything was wont to end.

_ “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this would upset you.” _

Raphael shook his head, and blinked back the tears that were trying to come back. The time for them to talk about what had happened would come, and there would be closure. There  _ had  _ to be closure. But first he had to fix  _ this  _ and maybe… maybe the kids were the answer.

_ “I didn’t know this would happen, but perhaps I should have expected it. I’ll be right back.”  _ It would be unfair to remove Sammy from Lucifer’s wings. Sammy was happy, and maybe Lucifer would be happy, and if Dean needed to see that his brother was safe and sound and happy, then maybe he would also benefit from sleeping in the warmth of an angel's wings.

Did Lucifer remember? He and Gabriel had come to realize that they could barely remember the time before things had gotten so unbearably bad, but he could almost remember a moment from before the before, when he had been wrapped so gently in Lucifer’s wings. There had been no place that he would have rather been, and Lucifer had been happy to have him there.

They had been innocent children themselves, once. So long before that Gabriel and Raphael could just barely remember it, weren’t necessarily sure that they wanted to because the time after that and before the fall had been even better. From the standpoint of experimentation and sexual gratification, that was.

That wasn’t the point. The point was, did Lucifer  _ remember _ ? Would seeing children in his wings again, something it was possible he’d thought would never happen again, cause Lucifer to change his mind about casting aside his wings?

Or was he so far out of line in even considering this?

_ “Where’s Sammy?”  _ Gabriel asked politely when he returned to their room. Dean was falling asleep in Gabriel’s arms, but the child was still sniffling and clearly suffering from the absence of his baby brother.

_ “Change of plans. Hand him to me? Sammy fell asleep in Lucifer’s wings, I don’t want to wake them yet. But I think it’ll be good for them.” _

Dean whined at being shifted, but Gabriel held him out to Raphael. The Messenger was frowning, like he wasn’t quite sure whether or not he should say something in objection. But in the end, Gabriel said nothing and Raphael carried Dean out of the room.

* * *

Michael waited a moment as Raphael left. The child was sleeping so peacefully, as was his mate, but for all that he didn’t really want to argue with Raphael’s methods, he knew that this was the wrong course of action. Raphael hadn't said what he was doing, but he could guess. It may have started out unintentional, but he couldn’t let Raphael finish this without Lucifer’s consent. For all that Raphael had tried to accept Lucifer’s desire, Michael was sure that Rapahel just  _ couldn’t  _ understand.

He could see this working. He could see Lucifer waking up with two kids in his wings and realize what he’d been missing. But Michael knew that if they did this Raphael’s way, there would always be a hint of doubt somewhere in Lucifer’s mind of, “But was this  _ really  _ my decision?” Because that was the height of the problem. Lucifer had never had the opportunity to say, “I want my wings back.”

But this kiddo had come to Lucifer of his own free will. This wasn’t an orchestration of Raphael or anyone else, and maybe it would be enough.

He nudged Lucifer awake gently. “I think the little one got lost,” he whispered, nodding in the direction of where the child was sleeping in Lucifer’s wings.

Lucifer turned to look, and unsettled by the sight of the child there, shifted the wing Sam had slid under.

In his sleep, Sam grasped at the wing Lucifer had tried to move away, and then as he pulled it back against his chest, he petted it.

Lucifer bit his lip, appearing torn about what he should do. So Michael took pity on his mate, and pressed closer to him. “Do you remember when we were small children, and Raphael and Gabriel would do the same thing when they were cold?”

The younger archangel nodded after a moment. “We were so warm, and they were so cold, and we could never really understood why.” He exhaled a sharp sigh. “They loved our wings so much. I think it’s a child thing. Trixie is the same way. And this little one.”

Michael pressed a soft kiss to Lucifer’s forehead. “What do  _ you  _ want? Does this have a place in that future?”

“I hurt Raphi so badly all those years ago. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I hurt all my mates.”   
  
“I wish I could have found you sooner.” Michael kissed Lucifer again. "But I didn't, and I have to live with that."

Lucifer sighed again. "It wasn’t your fault. I should have told you where I was, before things got as bad as they did.”

Michael sighed as well, before shaking his head softly. “Neither of us should be solely to blame. We have both made mistakes, and must atone for them all.” He paused, taking a moment to think, before continuing to speak. “And I believe you may know what we must do to begin to make right what we have done to wrong our brothers.”

This was not a new topic of conversation. Ever since Michael had found his brother, hidden within a night club in Los Angeles, he had been trying to bring up the idea of seeking out the brothers that they had so wronged, and begging their forgiveness. But each time he had tried, Lucifer had run, either by changing the topic quickly, or by physically leaving the room, not returning until he was certain that the subject would not be brought up again that day.

But Michael was not going to let his mate run from the conversation any longer. Not if there was to be any hope of them restoring a relationship, even one that would only be considered familial by human standards, with their siblings again.

Lucifer’s eyes closed, and he shuddered, before nodding hesitantly. “I think I do,” he whispered, voice shaking as he shifted, pulling Sam closer to himself. “I’m scared.”

The confession didn’t surprise Michael, even as he reached out, gently pulling at his mate until he was sat in his lap, laying back against his chest, even as he still held Sam close. “What has you so worried?” He was fairly certain that he already knew, but it was good to have confirmation regardless.

“What if they hate me, and never want to see me again? What if they can’t forgive me for what I did, and want to take revenge? What if they try to force me to break my bond with you, and I’m left all alone forever?”

Michael gently shushed his mate, not wanting him to become lost in the ramblings of his anxieties, or letting his fears run free, so as to potentially cause Sam to awaken. “Well, if such things worry you so, why don’t you simply ask, so that you may know the truth?”

Turning his head, Michael smiled at Raphael, who had been standing unnoticed in the doorway until that moment. “Well?”

"I would  _ never  _ try to deprive someone of their mate bond with another. The thought  _ sickens me _ . So you destroyed one of mine  _ millennia  _ ago, but revenge isn't my thing. I don't care anymore." Raphael tried to shrug. To be nonchalant about an ages old happenstance. Instead he came across as sad and uncomfortable. He shifted into view the child that had fallen asleep in his arms.

"Gabriel and I would not trust you with our children if we hated you," Raphael offered. "I should have explained before I ran off, I think. Dean here had a nightmare about John harming his baby brother. Is it okay if I assure him that Sam is alive and well and happy?" 

Lucifer winced, sucking air through his teeth with a loud whistle. "You and Gabriel need to know what John rambled on about, but maybe tomorrow?" After Raphael nodded he added, "Do you want me to hold him?"

Raphael stepped forward and handed Dean to Lucifer. "I imagine he'll sleep for awhile, is it okay if I leave him here?"

"Go ahead," Lucifer agreed. "They'll be fine here."

"Can we talk more tomorrow? I need to go talk to Gabriel."

Lucifer nodded. "See you tomorrow then."

And with that, Raphael took his leave to return to bed.

* * *

Once Raphael left the room with Dean, Gabriel got up and paced the length of the room. He had only a slim idea of what had happened, but he knew that Raphael wasn’t super happy about the path his own actions had taken.

Part of him wondered if it was leftover trauma from what had happened all those years ago, causing Raphael to want to control everything, to keep things from devolving to that point again, but it still wasn’t excusable.

He didn't want everything to devolve either, but he had been content to just ignore that Lucifer and Michael were still alive. Sure, revenge for Raphael's hurt was more his style than Raphael's, but so much time had passed since then and he wasn't going to go track them down for said revenge when he knew it wouldn't do Raphael any good. And Raphael wouldn't want that.

But he still didn't understand what this was all about. Or what was going on. 

So he was frustrated. The relationship between himself and Raphael was  _ good _ . They communicated their boundaries, and needs, and desires. And of course, Lucifer, and by extension Michael, reappearing in their lives would cause them to stop. Or at least the appearance of it.

That's what their older brothers were best at. Taking a good thing, and ruining it.

A tapping sound from the doorway as he paced away from it had Gabriel turning back around.

Raphael was standing in the doorway, leaning against it like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "I screwed up," he mumbled as soon as he was sure Gabriel was acknowledging his existence. "I think it worked, but it could have gone so wrong, and it was such a  _ mistake _ ."

Gabriel sighed, and approached his mate. Raphael didn't move away, but he almost seemed to sink further into the wall. "I love you," he said, adamantly, as he wrapped his arms around the love of his immortal life.

Raphael _flinched_. "But- it was _manipulation. _I wasn't ever supposed to stoop to those levels… How can you-?"

"I love you. Forever to the end of the universe, that was my oath." Gabriel kissed Raphael's cheek. "We should probably talk about the why of earlier, because I care about you and what's upsetting you. But I think that can wait. Right now, I want you to lie down so I can prove how much I love you." He tugged Raphael in the direction of the bed.

"But how-"

Gabriel interrupted him by biting Raphael's lip. "I love you, and I'm going to show you just how much I think so." He slipped off his sleep pants and hopped up onto the bed. "Please, come lie on your back."

With a nod, Raphael stripped and joined his mate on the bed, and let Gabriel do as he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is a Holiday in the United States, Thanksgiving. And while the origin is less than ideal and is problematic because of colonization, that doesn't mean that it doesn't have cultural importance to me. I'm hopeful that it will be my last Thanksgiving away from home for the foreseeable future, (I misses them, Thanksgiving is my favorite Holiday, and I'm a college student too far away from home).
> 
> Anyway, I am thankful to each and every one of you who reads this, and I am thankful for all of the comments I receive, and I am thankful my wonderful betas and best friends. I hope that you have a good day whenever you are reading this, and I wish you a good tomorrow. Thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut this chapter way sooner than I had intended, because we have 6000 words, inside a clothing store. I would apologize, but I'm not going to.

The next morning found Raphael and Gabriel eating a very early breakfast after having spoken at great length on varying subjects from the previous week. The atmosphere was calm. They were eating oatmeal and Gabriel was trying to play footsie with Raphael under the table when Raphael didn’t look relaxed enough.

Hela was dozing on the sofa in the living room, but her brothers had disappeared at some point during the night. Everyone else was still asleep, as far as Raphael and Gabriel could tell.

Lucifer padded silently into the kitchen while Raphael and Gabriel were doing dishes. Gabriel was washing them and Raphael was drying and putting the clean dishes away. It shouldn’t have worked. They were standing closer than necessary, so close that Lucifer was surprised that they were very clearly not getting in each other’s way. There were lingering touches, whenever Gabriel handed Raphael the next dish, and then almost constantly one was pressing a gentle kiss against the other’s skin. They had always been close, Lucifer could recall, but not like this. Not so open with their affection and loving reassurances.

Their time away from Heaven had clearly been good for them.

For a moment, Lucifer wondered if he should just leave. Go back to L.A. His younger siblings were happy and healthy and living their best lives. He had no business disrupting or getting in the way of that.

"Lucifer!"

The call pulled Lucifer out of his thoughts. Gabriel had looked over his shoulder and seen him, but he didn't look unhappy about it. Gabriel looked happy, with a hint of trepidation.

It took him a moment that it was probably due to the fact that they still didn't know whether or not he was going to hold Raphael to the promise of cutting off all the wings.

Lucifer didn't think Raphael had been lying when he said he would do it, but he also knew that Raphael probably wouldn't be able to finish it, even if he thought he could.

He sighed. "I've changed my mind about the wings," he said. "Unless you  _ want  _ to cut them off."

Raphael looked a little green at that, so perhaps he shouldn't have said the last bit. But he was so sure that they deserved revenge for what he'd done in breaking everything.

Gabriel brushed against Raphael, and there must have been some silent words of reassurance that he didn't get to hear, because after a moment Raphael calmed. "Would you like some breakfast?" Gabriel asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Lucifer agreed, quickly. He hoped that he would be less likely to screw this up. There was more oatmeal, which Gabriel served for Lucifer.

“Are the kids still sleep?” Raphael asked, sitting next to Gabriel and across from Lucifer.

Lucifer nodded. “Dean woke up long enough to determine that Sam was alive and well and then went back to sleep. Michael is keeping an eye on them.”

“I wonder if they would sleep better in the same room,” Lucifer posed.

“My understanding is that they’ve been sharing space in various motel rooms as John Winchester dragged them across the country, hunting the supernatural,” Lucifer disclosed.

“Sam doesn’t remember what a crib is,” Gabriel said. “And he may not have remembered even before this, so maybe we should try something else. Especially if the problem is that they can’t handle being alone at night yet.” 

“The crib was supposed to be a comfort to him,” Raphael lamented.

Lucifer tried really hard not to snicker. It was time that he didn’t know a lot about children, but he was pretty sure Sam was a little old for a crib.

Misunderstanding why Lucifer looked so amused, Raphael glared playfully at him. “And what do you know about child psychology?”

“Not a lot,” Lucifer admitted. “I just thought the small humans deserved to be treated like small adults.”

Gabriel and Lucifer simply stared at him so he ate his oatmeal.

“Dogs are way better than cats,” Dean was saying, voice carrying from somewhere down the hall.

“Puppies, Dean,” a small sleepy voice interjected. “Puppies are the best.”

“They are,” Dean agreed. “They’re way better than cats. They’re friendly and love all the pets. Cats want pets only when they want them, and the rest of the time they scratch. And bite.”

“No scratchies,” Sam whined. “No bitey.”

Michael stepped into the kitchen. Sam was held in one arm, and Dean was holding Michael’s other hand. Tucked in his arms, Dean was holding Sam’s winged puppy.

“Good morning,” Raphael said. “Everyone sleep okay?”

Dean nodded energetically and Sam less so the small child stretched out, reaching for Raphael.

“Hey, Kiddo.” Raphael took Sam from Michael. “How are you?”

Sam yawned and didn’t answer. “Puppy,” he said suddenly, pointing towards Dean and the sleeping puppy.

“Does your puppy have a name?” Gabriel asked.

Michael sat next to Lucifer and Dean sat on his other side.

Raphael served Michael and Dean oatmeal. “Are you hungry, Sam?”

“Mmm,” Sam hummed in affirmation.

“Sammy doesn’t like oatmeal,” Dean said, looking up from his own bowl, which he hadn’t touched yet.

Raphael glaned at where Gabriel was retrieving a small plastic bowl. “Does Sammy like apple sauce?”

“I love apple sauce,” Sammy said.

Gabriel went to the fridge and pulled out a jar of homemade applesauce, and poured some of it into the bowl before putting it back.

Raphael shifted Sam so that the child was sitting on his lap facing the table, and took the bowl from Gabriel to put it on the table in front of Sam.

Sam ate the apple sauce with his fingers while Gabriel dug around in the fridge for something else. He pulled out two cups and put spill proof tops on them both. He put these in front of both the children.

“Milk?” Dean asked as Sam took his and drank several long gulps from it. It would have been empty if it had been a normal cup.

“Something like that,” Raphael said with a small smile. He rubbed Sam’s back gently as the child put the cup down and returned to eating his applesauce messily. He noticed Dean had neither sipped from the cup or started eating his oatmeal. “Is something wrong, Dean? Do you not like oatmeal either? Or would you like me to add some fruit?”

Dean looked back down at his bowl of hot cereal. “Is okay?”

Raphael nodded. He smiled, trying not to look too concerned, though worrying thoughts as to why a child was asking if it was okay for him to eat food  _ right in front of him  _ crossed his mind. “It’s yours, go ahead.”

Dean seemed to take that as the necessary permission, because after that he did take his spoon and eat the oatmeal before him. He also drank from the cup in front of him.

“I think we should go out this afternoon,” Gabriel said, slipping back into the chair beside Raphael. “Perhaps after bathtime?”

“I bathe Sammy,” Dean said, mouth full of oatmeal.

“Okay,” Gabriel said, figuring that agreeing would be better than starting a fight over it when there were slightly more pressing things to deal with. There were still so many things they needed to know about John Winchester and the things he may or may not have done or subjected the children to. There was no way to know yet just how far the abuse and neglect had gone.

Lucifer’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Lucifer answered.

_ “I know you said you needed a few personal days, and I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. But can you meet me below the docks? There’s something… inhuman, about this. You should bring Amenadiel.” _

Lucifer glanced at Raphael and Gabriel with a questioning look, and they nodded. “Of course, Detective.”

* * *

Getting the kids into the bathroom so they could bathe was not the challenge. The challenge was separating Sam from his Lu, as he didn’t seem to understand why Lucifer had to leave, even though he promised that he would try to keep it short, and that he’d come back again when Raphael and Gabriel let him.

But they managed it eventually, so Lucifer and Michael headed back to L.A to find out what had the detective so worried and the kids took their baths. Michael mentioned in passing that he'd zapped the lice infestation, which Raphael and Gabriel both appreciated.

Afterwards, Raphael and Gabriel flew them to a secluded section of town where they wouldn’t be seen suddenly appearing from nowhere. The children had come to them with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, and while it had been easy to use some grace to clean them so the kids hadn’t had to put dirty clothing back on after their bath, it would still be a good idea to get them things that belonged to  _ them _ . There were probably a few things in a closet somewhere in their house that would fit, but the archangels felt that the kids just deserved some new things that were theirs from new, not someone else’s hand me downs.

So the first stop was a children’s clothing store. The town didn’t have a shopping mall, but it did have a nice selection of department stores in the downtown area that meant they could have a nice shopping trip without having to deal with a large number of people that could possibly overwhelm Sam and Dean.

“Why are we here?” Dean asked as Gabriel opened the door and Raphael ushered him inside. Sam was on Raphael’s hip so he couldn’t get lost.

“Don’t you want some new clothing?” Gabriel asked. “Something that fits better than what you’re currently wearing?” For all that both kids were likely small for their age, their clothing definitely should have been thrown away sooner, as they were so worn out as to be falling apart, and was too small and obviously pinching in places, though neither child had let out any complaints at all since they had arrived in their home. Not even Sam, for all that he still remember anything at all from before except Dean.

Dean bit his lip. There was a pause, but as they approached the section for little boys, he finally said, “But isn’t that ‘spensive?”

Gabriel crouched so that he was eye level with Dean. “Dean, Sweetheart, Raphael and I can afford to buy you some new clothing, and we want to spend money on you and Sam.”

The child still looked uncomfortable, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Besides, they donate a lot of money to a charity the two of us support, so even if you don’t think us spending money on you is money well spent, it really is.”

Dean looked up at Gabriel. “Promise?” he asked.

Gabriel nodded. “Promise.” He didn’t read Dean’s mind to check, but he was pretty sure that Dean’s question was more significant than just that the money was well spent, but more specifically that they weren’t going to regret spending the money in this way and at some point later take it out on him and/or his brother. Which was something he absolutely wouldn’t put past John Winchester and swore to himself that the sad excuse of a sperm donor would get what was coming to him tenfold.

With a now less resistant Dean, he encouraged the child forward so they could find some more suitable apparel than the rags he was wearing.

Raphael had taken Sam a little deeper into the store, knowing that Gabriel’s moment with Dean was a necessary one. “What kinds of fabric do you like?” he queried, rhetorically, as he didn’t suppose that Sam could remember, if he’d ever known, exactly what kind of fabrics he preferred.

“Puppy,” Sam hummed. He shifted so that he could lean his head against Raphael’s neck. “Puppy?”

Raphael smiled fondly. “I don’t think Puppy is a type of fabric. Do you want something with puppies on it?”

“Puppy,” Sam repeated. 

“Which puppy?” Raphael asked.

“Want Puppy!”

An image of Sam’s winged puppy, which had been left home with their oldest children because taking the conjured puppy  _ with wings  _ into public would not have been wise, forcefully shoved itself into Raphael’s mind.

Raphael considered the child, but decided not to worry about the apparent telepathy for right now, as there would always be more than enough time to worry about that later. He found it a little odd that Sam had decided to name the puppy after what it was, and hoped that the noun probably also being his favorite word wouldn’t get too confusing.

As far as he could tell, Sam wasn’t quite to the point of hysteria, so he reached for what looked to him like a mostly cotton blend shirt, that also had a dog on it. “What do you think of this fabric?” he asked, holding it out for Sam to touch.

“Puppy!” Sam exclaimed. He reached for the fabric and rubbed the printed puppy on his face. Raphael could tell from his grin that there was no way they were getting the shirt back from his grasp before they left the store.

Which was fine. Raphael was glad that Sam was excited about this. It saddened him that Dean was so entrenched in bad past experiences that it was ruining his capability of finding wonder and enjoyment in everything.

"Let's see if we can find some more puppies," he said.

He found a few more shirts with unique graphics of puppies on them, Sam loving each one almost a little more than the last. Fortunately, none of them seemed to be made of a bothersome material or Sam hadn't noticed.

Sam hugged the armful of graphic tees to his chest and Gabriel headed for the pajamas. He wanted to find something really soft and warm, possibly fleecy, for the little boy he was holding.

Sam and Dean deserved the world. Nice clothing, healthy food, and all the love. It didn't matter that Sam  _ could not  _ remember the bad. He and Gabriel were going to make up for all of it and then some.

He found what he was looking for. 

There was a pajama set in pink that was absolutely perfect. The short sleeved shirt was the same cotton blend as most of the shirts he'd already grabbed, except it was the softest one yet. On the front of the shirt there was a sleeping puppy with a coat the same color as Sam's Puppy.

The pajama bottoms were also pink, and there were many small puppies of different colors dotting the fabric.

"What do you think, Sam? Will these do?"

Sam's eyes widened and despite his full arms, he still reached out for the pajamas Raphael was holding. "Mine?" 

"Of course, Sam. All yours." He added the pajamas to the small pile of shirts in Sam's arms.

"I wear now?" Sam asked.

"I think we should wait until after we buy them, but then we can absolutely put you in them."

"Okay," Sam said sadly.

"Let's look at pants next," Raphael decided. Walking towards the section, he checked to see how Gabriel and Dean were doing.

Meanwhile, as Raphael and Sam has been choosing all the shirts with puppies on them, Gabriel was having trouble getting Dean to choose anything for himself. 

Gabriel had guided Dean to the graphic tees with Dean's sizes, but Dean didn't really seem to have any connection to anything they were looking at.

With some encouragement, Dean eventually picked two of the graphic tees, but then Dean moved on to more solid colors.

Dean chose a few different plaid flannel shirts. There was a red plaid, a blue plaid, and a green plaid.

"Do you like flannels?" Gabriel asked, trying to make conversation rather than with any judgement. He recalled that John Winchester had also been wearing flannel. He thought he recalled it being red.

Dean shrugged. "Dad- John, he always said they were sturdy." He seemed to have more to say on the subject, but he didn't. 

Gabriel didn't need him to elaborate further. To an extent, flannels were kind of associated with the woodsy "manliest man" stereotype, which John Winchester definitely fit to a tee. And John had not given any illusion as to being a particularly tolerant individual, even of humans.

His journal had conveyed the elder Winchester's homophobia, and Lucifer had conveyed John's beliefs regarding the ludicrous idea that Sam had been a Cambion whom he'd sacrificed to Loki.

Sam was definitely not a Cambion. An extremely powerful child capable of doing things he and Raphael couldn't even dream of, yes, but a human toddler nonetheless.

It was harder to get Dean to add any further shirts to the pile of five, but he managed to get him to pick out a bunch of different monochromatic t-shirts after he insisted on not wanting anything fancier.

Once Dean admitted that he did like his jeans, despite them being worn completely out, Gabriel helped him pick out a handful of pairs in a few different styles.

"It's just clothing," Dean mumbled when Gabriel said it was time to look at pajamas. "Why do I need so many different things? I'm just going to outgrow them or wear them completely out."

"You deserve to have a say in what you wear, and to have choices between different items."

"But it doesn't  _ matter _ ."

"It does matter, Dean. Having choices in little things now means you'll have practice making choices when it comes to more important things later."

Dean blinked uncomprehendingly, which Gabriel could understand. He hugged Dean, and then picked him up.

They both touched all the pajamas in Dean's size. Color and graphics didn't seem to be part of Dean's consideration process, except that he didn't seem inclined towards anything in a color that these humans considered culturally to be "girly".

It was a stupid adjective. The sky could appear every single shade of blue and a few that the humans could not even see, and the same could be said of the sun and stars about pink. The sky was neither boyish nor girly, neither were the stars or the sun, or the other planets.

It was merely an adjective that allowed for a means with which to belittle anyone or everyone about their likes and preferences and it was sickening.

Life was hard enough without distressing and unnecessary social cues that bettered no one except for its furthering of capitalistic ideologies. 

Dean touched and eyed every option, but he didn't really seem to have any preferences.

"What about these?" Gabriel asked, holding up the softest fleece pajamas, long pants and long sleeved shirt in dark green and light green stripes.

Dean shook his head, "No, no, no."

Gabriel put it back, then came up with a better idea. "Long sleeve or short sleeve?"

"Long?"

The striped pajamas also came in a solid light blue color, so he grabbed it. "Do you like these?"

Dean bit his lip. “It’s okay?”

Gabriel considered Dean’s specific phrasing. Did he only moderately like the coloring? Or was he now worried that this was all a trap? Had John does things like that as an excuse to further hurt his children? “You can like whatever you want to like, or are interested in, or just find pleasing. Raphael and I, we just want you to find some enjoyment in what you’re choosing to dress yourself in. Or if you choose not to dress yourself at all. Our house is your house too, and we just want you to be comfortable.”

Dean continued staring at the blue pajamas. “It’s… okay, if I want these pajamas?”

“Absolutely.” Gabriel ruffled Dean’s hair. “I’ll just add them to your pile.” And he did. “Should we got catch up with Raphael and your brother? I think I can see them heading in the direction of the shoe section.”

Gabriel passed the underwear section because it was between the section they had been in and the shoe section. He grabbed a few various packages of underwear and socks for the kids because he decided that it wasn’t necessary to make Dean and Sam pick all of their own, especially with how much trouble Dean had had just choosing pajamas.

Raphael was already showing Sam some of the shoes in his size when Gabriel and Dean caught up to them.

“Mine!” Sam exclaimed, pointing excitedly to a pair of pink velcro sneakers. Stepping closer, Gabriel realized that there were puppies on each side of the shoe. It also looked like they were the kind of sneaker that would light up when walked on. From the amount of puppy adorned clothing in Sam’s arms, he could see that Raphael had found a little more success in finding Sam’s favorite thing.

“No, Sammy! You needs boy shoes!”

Sam’s lip quivered, and Gabriel wondered what kind of interference to run. This was about the most obvious confirmation Dean could have given him that John Winchester had felt it necessary to enforce gender roles  _ and acceptable colors _ on his children.

“My Puppy!” Sam screamed, kicking his shoes off against Raphael’s leg and dropping the entire pile of puppy adorned clothing in an attempt to reach for the shoes Raphael was still holding.

“Dean,” Gabriel said, a little more forcefully than he’d spoken to them yet. “There’s nothing wrong with Sam wearing clothing from the girl’s section and if it makes him happy, then he should. You want Sammy to wear things that make him happy, don’t you?”

Dean stared at Sam as Raphael put the new shoes on his feet. His Sammy  _ did  _ look really really happy, as he kicked his feet against Raphael’s leg and laughing as lights started blinking. “Sammy happy?”

Gabriel shifted his hold on Dean so that the child was looking at him. “Yes, Dean. Sammy is really happy with the clothing he picked out. It doesn’t matter that it’s from the section that some would consider to be for girls. If you wanted clothing from over there, that would be okay too. We just want you to be happy and since this is making Sam happy, that should be good enough.”

Dean glanced back at his brother, who was still laughing as he kicked Raphael. “Okay.”

Raphael put Sam down and the toddler started running around the shoe area, laughing as he watched the shoes light up.

“What shoes do you want, Dean?” Gabriel asked. “Do you want some shoes like Sammy’s?”

“No lights,” Dean said. “I’m not a baby.” He wiggled in Gabriel’s arms. “Put me down?”

Gabriel acquiesced to Dean’s request at being put down, and let the child wander around, eyeing each of the choices for footwear with a critical glance.

“I want these,” Dean said when he reached the end of the row they were in. He was holding a pair of sturdy hiking boots, even sturdier than the well worn running shoes on his feet would have been new.

While he had no idea what Dean would need a sturdy pair of hiking boots for  _ now,  _ Gabriel didn’t really want to come across as dissuading the child from getting the item he’d shown the most emotion about the entire time they’d been the store. “Okay. Are those the only shoes you want? Maybe something you can run in?” Hiking boots offered really good ankle support, but by preventing the ankle from bending, they were terrible for running in, and he was sure that the kids would be running around a lot when the weather was warmer.

“Can I?” Dean asked.

“Go ahead,” Gabriel encouraged.

Dean’s second pair of shoes was a pair of gray running shoes.

“I think the last thing we need from right here are slippers for each of you,” Raphael said. “Then there’s one more section before we can go buy these.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “More things? Why?” The pile of clothing Raphael and Sam had picked out for Sam was more clothing than he had cumulatively owned in his  _ entire life,  _ and his pile was only a little smaller, not that he minded.

“We haven’t even gotten to jackets and coats,” Raphael reminded them. “But first, slippers. I’d be happier if the two of you weren’t running around barefoot in the house.”

“Why wouldn’t we be wearing our shoes inside?” Dean asked.

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “We don’t wear muddy shoes in the house.”

“Why not? Doesn’t not wearing shoes make it harder to run if we were attacked inside?” Dean asked.

Gabriel’s heart broke. These kids had grown up wearing shoes inside specifically because it meant they’d have an easier time running if anything nasty came after them. Maybe they’d been running from a drunken John Winchester, or maybe they’d been running from any supernatural creatures that came seeking revenge after John had riled them up.

Or maybe there was a reason they’d been targets from the beginning. But Gabriel could think of no reason for that to be the case so he disregarded that thought altogether.

Either way, he wanted to prove to these kids that they would be safe in his and Raphael’s home, and that there was no reason for them to wear shoes inside because there would be no reason that would lead them to need to run off.

Not to mention that for all that he and Raphael enjoyed their domesticity, he didn’t really want to need to mop the floors daily.

Teach them early to take their shoes off as soon as they enter the house, or even before, and it wouldn’t be an issue as they got older. So maybe Raphael had a good point with slippers. If they got the kids some that were more like real shoes, maybe they would get more comfortable with the idea of them and not wearing real shoes indoors.

“Why would anything be attacking us indoors? We have very nice wards, they will keep us very safe,” Raphael promised when he realized Gabriel was too distracted to answer for Dean. Fortunately, Sam had wandered far enough away in his running up and down the aisles in the shoe department that he was both too preoccupied and too far away to be able to hear them.

“Wards can always fail,” Dean argued. “What then?”

“In the event that the wards  _ did  _ fail, which is very unlikely, as they kept us very dry this one time the planet flooded, then not only would we both fight very hard to keep you both safe, but I think that Lucifer and Michael would as well, and there’s not very many things in the universe that can take on the four of us,” Gabriel replied. He wasn’t exaggerating. There was nothing that could come after them that could defeat them without incredibly good luck, and fire power that probably didn’t exist. And since they’d be fighting to protect two innocents that meant the world to them… 

“John called Sammy an ‘bomination, and said God smites ‘bominations. How are you going to protect him against God?”

Gabriel swallowed thickly and had to sit down on the bench used for trying on shoes. Lucifer had told him that John had called Sam a Cambion, that he’d fully intended for Sam to die. But to hear the word abomination from a child, and that it had been used so horribly against another child, made him feel physically unwell. 

Raphael also looked unwell, and had leaned against the aisle shelf to regain his balance.

“Dean,” Gabriel said, quietly, too stunned to really be able to speak any louder. “Before I took on the position of Loki, I was somebody else.”

“Like a secret identity?” Dean asked, brows scrunching together.

“Something like that,” Gabriel said. “Anyway, I happen to know, personally, that there is no way your little brother can be an abomination, and that even if he was, not only does God not do any of the smity stuff himself, those who might have once done that kind of thing would never hurt your brother. And even if they wanted to, which they wouldn’t, Raph and I would smite them first.” Michael and Lucifer had no reason to ever consider smiting Samuel Winchester, and even liked Sam Winchester, but he and Raphael have destroyed them first if they had tried anything. Which they hadn’t. Because why would they. Sam and Dean Winchester were nothing more than two little kids who needed and deserved some adults to look after and care for them.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Raphael promised. “We can, and will, keep you safe. All of us.”

Dean still looked uncertain, but he was prevented from pressing for further answers by Sam sprinting headfirst into Raphael’s legs. “Up! Up!”

Raphael caught the apparent toddler before he could bump his head. “Was that fun?”

Sam nodded his head enthusiastically before plopping his head heavily onto Raphael’s shoulder. His thumb slipped into his mouth and he looked sleepily in Gabriel’s direction.

“In that case, I think it’s time to look at slippers, then winter clothing.” Raphael combined all of the clothing picked out for Sam with all of the clothing Gabriel and Dean had selected into a single shopping basket that had not been there before.

They all walked over to the corner of the shoe department dedicated to slippers.

Dean handled a few of the options with a look of deep confusion. “These aren’t sturdy enough to run in,” he said, skeptically. He pointed to one of pairs with a very basic sole that didn’t even have a basic slip guard protection. “We’d fall down running in these.”

Gabriel considered what all the options were. “I could magic your slippers a little sturdier, but you have to promise not to wear them back into the house if you wear them outside, at least until they’re cleaned.”

"Why?"

"So you don't get mud in the house," Raphael repeated from earlier. "I can teach you how to mop the floor if you'd prefer."

Dean froze, before his head dropped down and he mumbled, "Yes, Sir."

Gabriel considered Dean for a moment. The pose sent a shiver down his spine. He'd seen similar things from other abused children scared into habits their abusers had trained into them. If there had been any question as to if both of the boys had been mistreated, there would have been no doubt left, just from that small, seemingly insignificant pose.

“Dean, Sweetheart, you’re not in trouble,” Gabriel said. “And you wouldn’t be in trouble for getting mud on the floor either, we just want to teach you personal responsibility.”   
  
“Puppy!” Sam screamed, again successfully diverting all attention away from Dean.

With a huff of embarrassed amusement, Raphael looked to where Sammy was trying to climb out of his arms in an effort to reach some very adorable slippers.

The bottom of the boot slippers were shaped like a puppy, the head and drooping ears affixed to the toes. It also appeared that the slippers would light up when walked on, much like the sneakers he was wearing.

Raphael pulled the slippers down and handed them to Sam, who then brushed them against his face.

Dean sighed, and took the plain pair. “These are fine,” he mumbled, handing them to Gabriel.

Gabriel put the slippers in the basket, making a mental note to make the necessary changes to them that Dean could run in the house without falling down and breaking something. Helping him feel safe enough that a fear that they’d prevent him from escaping a dangerous situation would take longer. He knew that.

But why had it been Raphael suggesting he’d have to mop the floor that had panicked Dean?

Living in motels, he doubted that Dean had ever seen a mop, so it seemed unlikely that it was something John had ever hurt them with. So was it how Raphael had phrased the statement?

“I think we should look at winter clothing next,” Raphael said, interrupting Gabriel’s continued musing. “Coats, gloves, and hats?”

Gabriel nodded. He wasn’t sure if Dean would be comfortable with it, but he picked Dean up anyway because he wanted to hug him, and convey that they weren’t angry.

Dean flinched, which Gabriel had kind of expected yet still broke his heart, but as they walked towards the selection of winter garments, Dean eventually began to slightly relax into the hold.

Selecting the winter clothing was faster. Dean chose a dark green heavy coat, and Raphael picked a blue one for Sam, as the sleepy toddler had grabbed paw print gloves and a puppy hat with ears and was playing with those.

_ “Should we take them home?”  _ Raphael asked him silently, as they made their way over to the front of the store to make their purchases.

_ “Sammy looks about ready for a nap _ ,” Gabriel agreed,  _ “But perhaps we could take them to the park? Let Dean play while Sammy naps?” _

_ “Maybe.”  _ Raphael sounded a little reticent.  _ “But we could eat lunch after, and go to the toy store and get ice cream if they’re up for it? _ ”

_ “If they’re not, I might come back later. There’s a few less interesting things I’d like to grab as well, and they deserve some toys even if they’re not up to choosing some for themselves right now.” _

“Did you find everything okay?” the clerk asked, as they started unloading the basket of items onto the conveyor belt. She looked to be about in her early twenties.

“We did, thank you.” Raphael materialized their joint wallet. As pagans, they didn’t exactly have a steady source of income. However, sometimes they or Hela received various monetary offerings, or took a cut from undeserving individuals as part of just desserts. As such, it was almost bottomless, and this was one of their infinite ways of redistributing that wealth. It wasn’t just Raphael and Gabriel’s “account”, though. Hela added and took from it as well, usually for things like paying for her patron’s last rites. And she wasn’t the only one of their kids to do so.

“Is Hela feeling better?” she asked, pulling a thermos from behind the counter. “Grandma made a batch of soup for her.”

“She’s feeling a lot better, Patience,” Raphael said. “I’m sure she’ll be grateful for the soup. Will you thank your grandmother for us? By the way, how is she?”

“She’s doing well. Everyone was getting a little worried this week, it’s been pretty quiet here.” Patience scanned the tags on the shoes Sam was wearing. “Would you like to pick an inclusive calendar for the new year?”

“I think we’re-”   
  
Gabriel was interrupted by Patience holding up a calendar for the new year. There was a large puppy on the cover.

“Puppy!” Sam exclaimed.

“Are you the one who loves all the puppies?” Patience asked, looking at Sam.

Sam nodded. “Mine!”

The clerk laughed, and put the calendar on top of the stack of purchased items. She had finished scanning all the purchases and started packing them into paper bags, but she folded one package of underwear in each size into the pajamas and left those out of the bags. “Would you like the winter clothing left out as well?”

“Yes, please,” Raphael agreed as he swiped the card from the wallet.

The machine made an angry beeping noise in rejection.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in Gabriel’s arms, sending a worried look at Sam, who was squirming, pressing his hands to his ears, as the machine continued making an ugly noise.

“I am so sorry!” The machine stopped wailing as Patience pulled the power cord to the device out of the wall. “It’s been doing that all day, I was  _ sure  _ I’d finally fixed it.”

Sam started wailing in Raphael’s arms and Dean looked about to start crying himself.   
  
“You can come back later if that would be better, I have your receipt right here,” Patience suggested.

“Dean, do you want to go put on your new pajamas?” Raphael asked. “I think Sammy wants to change into his new jammies, and the bathroom is right over there.” He pointed to where the bathroom was right next to the doors to leave the store.

Dean nodded.

Raphael took the left out stack of clothing from where it was on the counter and put the card down. “Dean, can you carry these for me so I can carry you and Sam over to the bathroom?”

Dean took the offered items and let Raphael take him from Gabriel. Sam continued to wail as Raphael carried them in the direction of the bathroom.

Gabriel watched them walk away, and then picked up the card. “Can you charge us through the computer?”

“Yeah, it’ll just take a second.” Patience took the card from Gabriel’s hand and typed the numbers in the box on the computer screen. “I am sorry about the card reader being on the fritz, I don’t know what happened to it.”

“I think it’ll be fine. Sam’s probably overtired and been on the verge of overstimulation for awhile and Dean is probably scared way more than he’s letting on, but I think we’re going to go someplace quiet after this and maybe that’ll help them both.”

Patience nodded and handed the successfully charged card back to Gabriel. “You should bring him back after the kid has glasses.”

Gabriel blinked. “Glasses?”

“Glasses,” she repeated.

Gabriel started gathering up the paper bags with the new purchases in them. He was just about to send the bags home when he realized that perhaps it would be better to wait for the kids to come back before he did that, in case they freaked out thinking the items hadn’t actually been purchased in the first place, or worse.

Patience put a hand on the second to last bag that had been packed. “You may want to keep this one handy.”

Gabriel considered the psychic teenager. “I will keep that in mind.” He was sure that he’d seen everything that went into the bags, but the card reader going on the fritz had distracted them all. But he trusted her recommendations. She’d never been wrong about these kinds of things yet.

Patience Turner was the granddaughter of one of the psychics in town, and had been raised by her grandmother after her parents had died in an unfortunate accident. But as far as he had been able to tell, occasionally seeing her in the last few years, she seemed happy and healthy here.

Here was a small town called Hartford. It’s creation had been a pet project of Hela’s, as there had been a few years when the largest number of her patrons had been supernatural creatures seeking help and she’d wanted to do something  _ more  _ for them. It had also been a time in her life when she’d been really self conscious about the fact that she was mostly viewed as a goddess of Death and she had wanted to prove to herself that she could do  _ something  _ to nurture life.

So she had designed and created Hartford to be a safe town for humans and supernatural creatures alike, and it had worked. Raphael and Gabriel’s house was actually closer in distance to Hartford than it was to any other place, but their home was not on any map.

Gabriel and Raphael were not the only ones who brought all the children that came into their care, even temporarily, to this particular store for any wardrobe recreations. He was not entirely sure that Hartford by itself could have supported the store themselves. But it was an important location, and the owner, the psychic Missouri Mosely, knew it.

“You mentioned that everyone was getting a little worried?” Gabriel asked, recalling what she’d said earlier, though not entirely certain what she’d meant by it.

“There’s always more kids brought here by pagans in the winter time,” Patience said. “But these two are the first we’ve seen since Midsummer. We were getting worried when not even Hela brought anyone.”

Gabriel’s heart sank. This was  _ bad _ . He was pretty sure the absences could be attributed to the deaths of a number of pagans by John Winchester, though there was no way to be sure. “Someone’s been hunting pagans,” he said. “But I haven’t had the opportunity to see how much damage has been done or how much damage control we need.”

Patience winced. “That would do it. But Hela’s okay?”

Gabriel nodded. “The littler one, Sammy, saved her life. She’s been resting, and she’s doing better.”

“I’m really glad to hear that.” Patience nodded to herself. “I take it you’re going to deal with the individual hunting the pagans?”

“I know who it is and his soul is mine. I’ve just been a little busy with those two.”

“I can understand that. But try not to delay too long, okay? He’s not done.”

Gabriel wondered what that meant, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to ask her right now for all that she had seen. Maybe later if their older kids were up for some babysitting, he and Raphael could talk to Patience and Missouri for greater details, if they were necessary.

Almost as if she was the one reading his mind, Patience said, “Grandma and I are expecting you and your mate for tea at 7 tomorrow night, don’t be late?”

“Thank you, we’ll see you then.”

Just then, the bathroom door from down the hall opened, and Sam sprinted towards him, puppy sneakers lighting up the whole way. “Loki! Loki!” He was wearing the pink pajamas and the blue coat, as well as the paw print gloves and puppy hat. “I’s a puppy!”

Gabriel scooped up the toddler. “You are, aren’t you.” He booped Sam’s nose. “You’re cute, aren’t you.”

Sammy laughed, which Gabriel decided joined the long list of favorite sounds. Along with the sounds of laughter from the rest of the kids he and Raphael had ever taken care of. And then Sam snuggled into Gabriel’s body.

Dean looked calmer when he and Raphael rejoined him a few moments later, though Gabriel knew that it was not unlikely that Dean had mastered the art of schooling his expression long before.

“Ae you guys ready to go?” Gabriel asked. “I was thinking we could magic these bags of clothing home and go to the park.”

“Really?!” Sammy asked.

“Yep. They’ll just land right on the kitchen table. But first, why don’t you each pick one item from this bag to take with us.” He took the paper sack Patience had motioned to him needing and wondered what could possibly be in it. But he could tell from her expectant expression that it was the right thing to do.

“What’s in that particular bag?” Raphael asked.

Sammy reached inside the bag and squealed in delight as he pulled out a small plush blanket with puppies all over it. He rubbed it against his face, just as he had with almost everything else. Gabriel shifted him so that he could wrap the blanket around the child. Sam yawned, and snuggled against Gabriel and closed his eyes.

Gabriel shifted the paper bag so that he could lower it where Dean could reach inside it.

Dean pulled out a small knit kitten in dark blue and his eyes widened. “This is for me?” he asked, looking hesitant.

Gabriel nodded. “It is,” he assured the child. He was glad that Patience had included just the right thing for each of them.

Patience leaned forward as Gabriel tapped each of the other bags to send them back to the kitchen table at home, where they could be dealt with later. “One more thing,” she whispered. Once Gabriel glanced back at her, she added in a whisper that Dean wouldn’t be able to overhear, “There’s a blanket in there for Dean. You’ll need it later. They’re on the house, no returns unless the kids don’t like them as much as I think they will.”

“Thank you so much for all your help, Patience,” Raphael said. “I’m sure that when she’s feeling better, Hela will be around to check on everything.”

“You are so welcome,” Patience said with a grin. “See you all later.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like the new pairing as much as I do.

As Hela was about to step into the kitchen, she heard a thunk of items landing on the kitchen table. With a smile, she continued inside. She was hungry, and she was thinking it was time for lunch.

The items that had hit the table were a bunch of paper grocery bags that she recognized as being from the clothing store they all took the children that came into their care too. Other pagans had also followed their lead.

It pleased her that Raphael and Gabriel had been able to have a successful shopping trip with Sam and Dean. The kids deserved so much after the Hell John Winchester had put them through.

One last item dropped onto the table and her grin widened. This was a thermos, the same thermos Patience Turner sent her a few times a year, and always the first shopping trip she or her family made after Yule.

Sure enough, closer inspection revealed a sticky note on the top of it, a message just for her written in Patience's beautiful flowery handwriting.

"I love you too," she whispered, allowing herself to drop into the closet chair. Whatever Sam had done had certainly relieved most of the physical aspects of whatever had happened to her after she'd closed her court, but every inch of her was still bone achingly weary, not only from that but also from her court in general. She'd never wanted to be a death goddess. That had been thrust upon her by a pantheon Gabriel had once been ready to annihilate.

But she was, so she held her court and did what she was supposed to do, and each year was continually worse than the one before.

The house was too quiet. Too empty. Jor and Fen had wondered out, as they were wont to do, and Slip hadn't returned yet from whatever their parents had asked him to look into.

Which was fine. Normal.

She was just lonely and exhausted.

The soup tasted amazing. It was her favorite kind, a stew made with vegetables and ham and buttermilk dumplings. It reminded her of her childhood. They’d eaten soup kind of like this a lot back then. Patience had made this one with all of her favorite vegetables, and it was  _ good  _ ham.

Hela sank back into the chair, sipped the warm soup, and closed her eyes. It almost felt like it could chase away the cold and aches from deep within her bones.

They all hated winter. Gabriel and Raphael had the greatest reasons of all of them to hate it, but Hela hated winter too. Her siblings couldn’t really remember it anymore, but Hela still had flashbacks of her time in the snow and almost freezing to death. Of her flesh slowly dying, half her body to the point that the archangels had been able to do nothing for it except prevent it from going necrotic. Or maybe it had gone necrotic, it just couldn’t spread or kill her.

Her grip on the now empty but still warm thermos tightened. The phantom chill had returned, only worse this time. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she realized that she didn’t want to just sit there until whoever came home next did so.

She turned the note from Patience around in her hand. It was a little more than just a note of “I love you,” but that was expected after the  _ years  _ of whatever it was between them. The note was romantic, of course, and it served as a reminder that she didn’t  _ have  _ to sit here if she didn’t want to. So she wrote a quick note to Raphael and Gabriel in case they got back before she did, as she didn’t want to worry them. And then she teleported herself to the inside of the clothing store, where she was pretty sure Patience would still be. Unless she’d gone home in the last twenty minutes.

The teleporting had probably been a bad idea, she realized as she grabbed for the wall to keep from falling over and then swallowed heavily in hopes that it would keep her from being graced with a second appearance of Patience’s soup.

The wall wasn’t particularly warm, but she balanced her head against it anyway in an attempt to keep the room from turning upside down again. The coolness was almost a blessing in disguise, except for the part where she was  _ so fucking cold _ .

Hela had almost to an extent forgotten why she’d come here, except then some familiar arms where gently wrapping around her, carefully not to push too hard against any part of her.

“Hey, Boo,” the soft voice of the woman she loved whispered in her ear. “Are you feeling up to heading upstairs, or should we sit on the floor for a while?”

The floor sounded like a marvelous idea. “Is the floor warm at least?” She was cold standing right here, she doubted the floor could be that much better or worse.

Patience laughed, quietly, in a way that warmed Hela just a little. “I doubt it. Let’s get you upstairs. Did you enjoy the stew?”

Hela nodded, and almost instantly regretted it as it made the world spin again. She closed her eyes and let Patience pull her away from the wall.

Patience shifted Hela so that Hela was leaning against her and her arm was around Hela, supporting her, and then they headed upstairs.

Patience’s grandmother, Missouri Mosely, owned the building, and she and Patience lived on the upstairs floor, as they only needed the ground level for the clothing store. It was a cozy space, two master bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living room.

Once they got upstairs, Patience got Hela into bed. She noticed that Hela was not wearing shoes, and smiled as she started adding more bedding to the bed.

Hela curled up around the second pillow. “Darling, won’t you join me?”

Patience smiled wider. “Of course.” She added a few more blankets. “Are you warm enough?”

Hela shrugged. “I’ll be warm enough when you come join me.”

The psychic laughed and took that as her cue to kick off her shoes and climb into bed next to Hela. It should have been too hot for her under the mountain of blankets, but Hela’s skin was like ice, though that didn’t bother her either. She was just the right temperature, cool skin touching hers and warm blankets on top.

“I love you, Boo,” Patience whispered, pressing a kiss to Hela’s shoulder. “I’m glad you dropped by, but I wish it hadn’t taken so much out of you.”

“It scared you,” Hela mumbled. “I’m sorry. I was just… so lonely.”

Under the covers, Patience reached for Hela’s hand with one of her own, and drew symbols of love on the back of her hand with her own thumb. “I wasn’t scared, just worried. And I missed you too. You know Grandma teased me for pining like a gentleman in a romance novel?”

“She didn’t!”

“She did. You should have seen her face when she said it, there’s no recreating that face.”

“I bet.” Hela shifted slightly, pressing her forehead against Patience’s chest. “I think I almost died. It felt like I was dying. And I’m okay now… but it was so terrifying, Patience.”

Patience repeated the love symbols into Hela’s hand, and wrapped her other arm around the goddess. “You’re here, and I’m here, and I think that’s what matters. But I’m sorry you went through that. I know I can’t protect you like your parents, and that I don’t have much in the way of powers myself, but I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” Hela brushed her free hand against Patience’s chest and though she seemed about to say something, in the end she remained silent. “I appreciate you,” she mumbled some time later.

“I think you should stay in bed with me all day tomorrow,” Patience giggled. “We’re expecting your parents for tea, but you and I  _ could  _ totally play hooky.”

Hela's lips quirked up in an almost smile. "I still haven't told them about us. They know, of course, but they're so patient and respectful. No misplaced hurt that I haven't confided in them, no guilt trips or invasions of privacy. Just the occasional gentle reminder that I know where they are if I need them. But I think I'm ready. Maybe I could tell them tomorrow, at the tea?"

Patience kissed Hela's forehead. "Only if you want to. But first, I have a present for you."

Hela raised her eyebrows. "I don't have a present for you."

"I know, but that's okay. I wanted to give these to you in case it made you feel more comfortable to tell your parents if you had something to show them."

"Why wouldn't it be enough that I just love you so much it hurts?" Hela's confusion was genuine, and it made Patience smile sympathetically. 

"It would be enough for them because all they want is for you to be happy. But I love you so much it hurts too, and I really wanted to give you these two things to reflect those feelings." Patience pulled away from Hela just enough to get a better look at her. "May I?"

Hela nodded, and her confusion slipped into simple happiness as she gave a small smile in return. "You may."

Patience rolled over and pulled two boxes out from under the bed. One was long and narrow and the other was obviously a jewelry box. "I will love you as long as I live, but this is only a proposal if you want it to be one. I would marry you without your parents' blessings, but I want to ask them for it, when you're ready. But not before they know because you told them yourself." 

The goddess eyed the jewelry box, but she only smiled wider. "Are you sure you're not proposing?"

"I know that what recordings we have of traditions in the area you grew up aren't necessarily the correct ones, and that because you and your parents aren't mortal, those traditions weren't necessarily yours, but I really just wanted to give you a ring and a sword." Patience pushed the two boxes towards Hela.

Hela's eyes widened, and she reached for the box with the sword. " You know, in some marriages the groom put the ring on the sword and gave the ring to his about to be wife by holding the sword out towards her. But first he had to slay the ancestral barrow wights holding the ancestral sword hostage."

"I didn't slay any barrow wights, I hope that's okay," Patience said as Hela opened the sword box and squealed in delight.

The sword was a simple sabre, but the hilt was adorned with Hela's emblem. The one that really represented her as a goddess more complex than just of death.

"I would hope not. Most of the barrow wights were Gabriel's most absurd giving of just desserts." Hela wrapped her arms around Patience. "I love it, thank you!"

Patience kissed Hela's cheek and opened the jewelry box. "May I do the honors?"

Hela gasped. The ring was simple, dark metal thinly twined into many infinity symbols, with small moonstone jewels set into alternating halves of the loop. She held out her left hand so Patience could put it on her ring finger. "It's so pretty."

Patience set the box with the sabre in it on the headboard and pulled Hela back down into the bed. "Is it okay to touch you?" There was no expectation in her voice, just a question she wanted the honest answer to.

Hela shifted her hips, testing herself. She nodded. Patience stripped, and helped her strip, and they made soft love under a house of blankets.

* * *

Raphael and Gabriel flew with the children over to the park. It was cold, but not so cold that Dean could not play for a little while as Sam napped with them. The park had a good sized playground, and no one was around.

The playground had multiple options in the way of slides, as well as an interesting array of wooden structures that allowed for being climbed all over. There were monkey bars and parallel bars, climbing ropes courses, and balance beams low to the ground.

It also had teeter totters, a merry go round, a jungle gym, and a swing set, off to the side in the grass beyond the bark dust of the main structure that would have been perfect for a game of ground is lava.

Many playgrounds had removed their teeter totters and their merry go rounds for fear of being sued by parents of injured children, placing the blame incorrectly on the wrong people. Hartford would not be removing any aspects of its playground anytime soon.

Dean stared at the large playground structure with wide eyes, and then looked at Gabriel and Raphael questioningly.

"You can go play if you want to," Raphael said quietly. Sam had fallen asleep in his arms, wrapped tightly in the puppy blanket Patience had given him.

"Really?" Dean asked, looking back towards the playground.

"Absolutely," Gabriel agreed. "Go on."

After a moment of indecision, Dean held out the knit kitten towards Raphael. "I don't need it," he added when Raphael didn't reach to take it from him right away.

Raphael held out a hand and let Dean drop the kitten into it. "I'll give it back when you're done playing," he promised. He decided not to say anything about keeping it safe or not wanting it to get dirty on the off chance that Dean took it as another threat that it was not.

Dean didn't say anything in response to that, just turned around and walked towards the playground.

Raphael sighed softly, as he watched Dean walk slowly around the playground, as if uncertain as to what was expected of him. “I think we may have seen more than he wanted to show us today,” he murmured, adjusting his hold on Sam as the boy shifted, before setting the stuffed cat on the bench next to him.

Gabriel nodded, keeping a close eye on Dean as well. “I know. If anything, he may have tried to show us something, but lost control of himself, right until the end.”

As Dean slowly started to climb onto the structure, Raphael shook his head. “I don’t believe he even intended to show a good three quarters of what he did. Just look at what he said about Sam’s shoes, and the other such outfits he chose.”

There was a soft chuckle from Gabriel then, and Raphael could feel his mate leaning against his arm. “To be fair, the kid did get one of everything with a dog on it, regardless of size.”

Raphael smiled softly, reaching to adjust the way that the blanket folded around Sam’s face, gently brushing a lock of hair away from the boy’s face. “He does seem to enjoy the animals.”

“Not gonna argue that.”

They both sat in quiet contemplation, until Gabriel softly sighed, sitting straight as he turned to face Raphael. “I think we need to talk about what Dean said, back at the store.”

Raphael nodded softly. “There is no reason for such a sweet, gentle boy to feel as if he may need to tear away something that his brother wants, simply because it does not fit into what his father believes to be proper, according to beliefs that are outright harmful.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued. “Especially when it’s clear that he himself was likely forced into such a way of thinking, likely through means of violence.”

“I know,” Gabriel agreed, watching as Dean carefully moved to go down a slide. “He seemed so scared when I helped him pick out his pyjamas, solely on the color that he finally settled upon. I fully believe that he expected me to shout, hit, or tear them away from him.”

“He seemed so upset when we spoke about mud in the house.”

“He did.”

“Why did something like this happen to these poor children?” Raphael’s voice was breaking, the emotions overwhelming him quickly. “Why would Father allow such pain and despair upon them, what sin could they have committed?”

“Raph, you and I both know full well that Father allows things to happen for reasons beyond any of our knowledge.” Gabriel started, pulling his mate close, careful not to disturb Sam’s sleep in the process. “We now know that John Winchester was killing those we raised. Our children were next on the list, and if he hadn’t found me, he would’ve found them. But Dean found Hela first, and I found Sam. We managed to save our family, and warn the others so that they could be safe.”

Raphael was shaking, holding Sam close, fighting to keep calm. “I know, but…” he trailed off, closing his eyes and taking several breaths. After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes, watching Sam.

The boy had shifted once again, his hand raising towards his face, and his thumb had slipped unnoticed into his mouth. He seemed to be more peaceful than he had been during any other period of sleep, and the sight made Raphael smile softly, even through his emotional turmoil.

“He really is a cute kid, isn’t he?”

Raphael’s smile widened, and he nodded gently at Gabriel’s words. “They both are. It’s a shame that we don’t know their personal information yet, I would love to know when their birthdays are, or if they celebrated any holidays, so we could share that with them.”

There was a laugh from Gabriel, as he wrapped an arm around Raphael’s shoulders. “We’ve only had them a few days. They might just tell us one day, or they might decide that they want to pick entirely new dates, the same as Fenrir and Jormungandr did.”

“Dean would likely know their birthdays,” Raphael mused, once more adjusting Sam’s blanket as he shifted. “He seems old enough to know such information independently, instead of relying on a parent for it.”

If Gabriel was about to say something, there was no time for it. Within moments of Raphael finishing his sentence, the pair watched as Dean tripped over the balance beam that was close to the ground, smacking his hands and knees into the wood chips covering the floor of the playground.

The pair both paused, watching closely as he slowly sat back, staring at his hands, and occasionally trying to touch his knees, cringing back when he did.

Gabriel sighed softly, squeezing Raphael’s shoulder softly. “I’ll go make sure that he’s alright. You stay here with Sam, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Raphael smiled, leaning to kiss Gabriel’s cheek, before letting him stand. “Remember, stay calm. Children can sense that kind of thing.”

“Come on Raph, when have I ever panicked when taking care of a kid?” Gabriel grinned, running gentle fingers down Sam’s back, before walking towards where Dean was still sitting on the ground.

Kneeling to the side of the boy, Gabriel smiled softly, holding a hand out towards him. “That looked like quite the spill there, kiddo. Want me to look anything over?”

Dean was sniffling, eyes watering, and he nodded slowly after a moment. “My knees, they hurt,” he mumbled, words barely audible, even to Gabriel’s hearing.

Gabriel nodded softly, remaining as he was, letting Dean take his time in his decisions. “Do you want to go to the bench, with Raph and Sam? Or do you want me to look at it over here?”

Dean looked confused, head tilting to the side, and frowning slightly. “I can choose?”

“Of course! You’re always free to choose what you want to do, no matter what. And sure, there may be times when there may not be a choice, but I can promise that we will always explain why, and the reasons behind anything else we may do, even if it has to be explained later.”

Gabriel thought he was doing a decent job of explaining things, but Dean’s frown was only deepening, even as he placed a hand in Gabriel’s own to examine. “But you’re kinda like Sammy and I’s dads now, so you’re the ones that get to make all the decisions now, aren’t you?”

With a soft sigh, Gabriel shook his head, while carefully reaching with his grace to begin healing the small scrapes on the hand he was given. “No, not all of them. Like I said, there  _ will _ be decisions that we have the final word on, but those will be things that are for your safety, even if it may not seem like it at first. But most decisions that will come up, like what you want to eat, what you want to wear, or even what room you want to stay in, Raphael and I decided a long time ago that we want our charges to learn to make those decisions on their own. You can always ask us if you aren’t sure, or want help with anything.”

Dean still looked uncertain, but didn’t audibly question any further.

Sighing softly, Gabriel pushed the rest of his thoughts out of his head. He could still feel the injuries that Dean had sustained, and just wanted to finish healing the boy, so he could go back to his mate and seek comfort from him.

Gabriel healed the injuries Dean had sustained to his knees and hands without waiting for the child to answer his question about where he wanted to go. There would be plenty of time for him to decide after he was no longer suffering.

Dean stared at his knees as Gabriel finished healing at them. "Good as new," Gabriel said. "Do you want to go back to playing? Or do you want to come sit with us?"

The child glanced in the direction of Raphael and Sam, but his gaze seemed out of focus. "I'll play," he said hesitantly.

"Have fun," Gabriel said. He wanted to add delicate warning to be careful, but he felt it necessary to refrain for fear that it would scare Dean into being so careful that he didn't enjoy himself, and that was not what he wanted. It was supposed to be an indication that he cared, not a threat.

Dean stood and wandered off in the direction he had originally headed in, and Gabriel returned to where his mate was holding Sam.

"Was he okay?" Raphael asked.

"Just some scrapes," Gabriel promised. "I'm so angry at Winchester for breaking these children. I can't even be sure that I can safely use the phrase 'Be careful' without triggering a reaction like with the mention of the mud. We've been raising children for so long, should we still need to censor ourselves for fear that what we intend to be a show of care for them is interpreted as a threat?"

Raphael sighed. "Some care with word choice has always been necessary. Even from the very beginning. Do you remember how sensitive the original nephilim we raised were?”

“But we were new parents then. We’ve been doing this for millenia.”

“Every child is different. They’re all  _ different _ . That means that just because something worked for all or most of them so far, that doesn’t mean it’ll work for all of them going forward. For all that we've always had to be careful, it's just more apparent now."

Gabriel nodded. "What might be an ages long running joke of care to one child might come across as a threat to another?"

"Do you suppose that you might be taking it a bit personally that you can't say 'Be careful' to them yet?" 

Gabriel frowned at Raphael’s question.

“That’s not-” Raphael sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you just want them to know that you care about them, and I shouldn’t have joked about you taking it personally.”

Gabriel hesitated, considering what he should say. But he didn’t get the opportunity to do so, because suddenly there was screaming coming from the playground. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hyrule should have been a coauthor from the start, but it can be hard to tell in the beginning. This chapter would not have been possible without her.

10 minutes earlier.

_ They wouldn’t have left him here alone, would they have?  _ Dean wondered, staring off into the bright void that was everything more than about ten footsteps away from him.  _ Abandoned him because all they needed was Sammy?  _ He wasn’t stupid. _ Everyone who wasn’t John loved Sammy more than him. The cute little kid who was always on his best behavior in public, and looked incredibly adorable.  _ Everyone loved him.

Dean didn’t blame his little brother for that. If anything, it was better for Sammy because it was almost a defence among humans. What human could want to hurt such a cute little boy?

He wasn’t so sure whether or not it was a very good defence against monsters, except not one had ever tried to harm him,  _ even the ones that usually ate children. _

They’d promised Sammy wasn’t a changeling, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something special, and unusual, about his little brother.

But he didn’t care. Sammy was his to take care of, to look after, but that included doing what was best for him and maybe not being in the way was more important. After all that had happened, he was pretty sure Gabriel and Raphael weren’t going to hurt either of them.

He climbed one of the slides. It was a lot different than anything he had ever done before. John Winchester didn’t take his children to parks with play structures on them, he took them to empty parking lots or outfields and made them run for so many miles they were puking. This was a lot better experience in comparison, but it was still a lot different than what he was used to.

Dean went down the slide again. Except for the part where it was not an enclosed space, which he was glad for, it was kind of like the time he and Sammy had climbed into the drain spout at a hotel to hide from a drunk and angry John. This was more fun, but he kind of wanted to share it with Sam.

Except Sam didn’t remember any of the things they’d done in the past, neither the good nor the bad, and probably thought he’d been with Raphael and Gabriel forever and ever and that life was absolutely perfect. It hadn’t been, but maybe Sammy deserved that illusion.

That’d be a good reason for them to leave him behind. Everyone liked Sammy better. They could take him away and raise him as a very happy only child and he’d never know the difference.

Dean’s lip quivered. He didn’t want to lose  _ his Sammy _ .

He looked in the direction they’d sat down, but everything past the stairs down from the slide was a white fog he couldn’t discern great detail from. He had no way of knowing whether or not they were still there. And with the very good luck he’d had the last few days, getting to Hela and finding Sam in the first place, there was no way that good luck was going to continue. Not when he’d created a scene in the clothing store over and over.  _ He was such an idiot. Why would they keep him when he couldn’t even cooperate appropriately. _

He jumped up and ran, taking the stairs down two at a time. He couldn’t trust his vision one way or the other, and he had to know if they were still here or if he was really abandoned after all. It would be the latter. Why wouldn’t he be all alone?

But there was only one way to find out.

Dean hurried back in the direction he had come, but while the illusion of fog was moving back to let him pass, it suddenly stopped. And then he was falling, as he tripped over the balance beam for the second time.

He couldn’t see the ground, and he screamed. He screamed because of the terror that he might never see Sammy again, and he screamed at the terror of having no idea where the ground was, and he screamed in pain as something in his arm  _ snapped. _

* * *

Patience shifted so she could study Hela as she slept. Hela always needed more rest after Solstice, but otherwise she didn't need very much sleep and they didn't do this all that often. Hela kept herself busy with her pagan duties and she kept herself busy with the store and the town, but they were both happy.

She smiled softly at the sleeping form that would wake any moment now. One day in the soon enough future, she'd wake up next to Hela every day. She wasn't quite sure when it would be, but she could wait. For the most part, Patience didn't intentionally peak at Hela's future, except she still saw specific localized things that the knowledge of was convenient in a way that allowed her to help Hela.

Hela blinked sleepily at Patience. She stretched out slightly, then winced. "Uhh-" She flushed slightly.

"Everything's fine," Patience said. "Do you want the heating pad?"

"No, thank you." Hela shifted. "I should get up."

"You don't need to," Patience promised. "You should be good until tomorrow night."

"Pre-shark week cramping?" Hela asked. When Patience nodded, Hela smiled. "Psychic."

"Only if it'll make your life easier, promise." Patience reached for a glass of water and pill bottle on her nightstand. "Water and/or painkiller?"

"Just water for now. I'll take the painkiller later." She took the glass of water and drank it. "You know… I was more than a thousand years old the first time this happened. It was not all that long after I founded Hartford, and I thought I was dying. I had known to an extent that it was a thing that happened to certain bodies, and that it probably should have been something my own body went through, but didn't, and Raphael and I believed it was just something that would never happen because of the damage I sustained being left in the cold and ice for so long." 

“Yet they seem to be getting more frequent,” Patience commented. “How do you feel about that? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hela shrugged, and put the empty glass on the headboard. “I’m not really sure. It’s just a thing that happens when it happens. Honestly though, I think this helps more than anything else ever has." She yawned. 

"Did I ever tell you about how the first time I had any indication that something else was wrong down there was when my brothers made a makeshift teeter totter?"

"Oh no." Patience winced, imagining how much that might have hurt Hela's delicate anatomy.

"Raphael came running so fast, I'm sure he thought I was being murdered."

"Horseback riding is probably a no too, then?" Patience asked. She already knew the answer, but she wondered if any of Hela's family had ever had cause to go horseback riding just for the fun of it.

"I've ridden side saddle a few times, but I never felt left out. Horses don't really like Fen very much, for obvious reasons, and Slip has a much smoother gait. Elephants are so much fun to ride, though. You sit however you want on the large carriage like saddles."

"That sounds like a lot of fun," Patience said. "I started making some solstice presents for the new kids, would you like to help me finish them later?"

Hela nodded. “I’d enjoy that. Those two have never had a proper solstice, of any other winter celebration, and they more than deserve it.”

“The one thing that made it difficult was that it took quite a bit to get a solid understanding of their ages.” Patience mused, pulling Hela close. “They both act far different than one would expect from children their ages.”

“It is interesting,” Hela agreed, relaxing into Patience’s arms. “Their past has not been kind to either of them. Even Sam, who one would expect to act his age, shows clear signs of a lack of parenting, and a lack of proper growth in numerous areas.”

"Living with your parents is going to be really good for them." Patience hesitated, then added, "The person raising them was poison."

Hela nodded. "Their biological father is  _ not  _ a good person, and they deserve so much more."

"He the one Gabriel said has been killing pagans?"

Hela hissed. She had been so out of it that she had not realized the full extent of what John Winchester had done. But Gabriel knew now, and that was what mattered.

Patience kissed her forehead. "It's okay, you're okay."

Hela exhaled, forcing herself to relax. "I love you," she mumbled.

Patience smiled and kissed Hela again, this time on her lips. It started as a soft, gentle kiss, but Hela melted into it, and they both panted when they finally separated. She put a hand on Hela's hip. "May I?"

Hela nodded. "No lower, though," she added. "Please."

"Of course," Patience promised, kissing Hela again. "Whatever you need."

They kissed and made out under the blankets, and Patience brought Hela to completion without touching her.

* * *

Dean had tripped over the balance beam again, this time coming from the opposite direction, and Raphael was passing the still sleeping Sam on to Gabriel as soon as they heard the scream because it was very obviously not a scream of having fun. 

Without any pause to make sure that Sam would be comfortable, Raphael ran towards where Dean had fallen, barely remembering to stay calm enough that the boy wouldn’t start to panic any worse than he already was.

Kneeling next to Dean, Raphael took a breath to steady himself, before reaching towards Dean’s scraped hands. “Dean? Sweetheart, what happened?” He tried to ask, but Dean was pulling away, shaking his head while clutching one of his arms tightly.

The boy’s face was pale, and his eyes were wide, looking around frantically, yet giving no indication that they were seeing anything.

It was shock, plain and simple, but what had brought the boy to such a state? There were no visible indicators of any major injury, save for the slight scrapes to his hands and knees, and even then, it did not seem so bad as to cause such a reaction.

With a sigh, Raphael knew that Dean would be in no state to be able to consent to his healing. He hated that he would have to force such a thing upon him, but there was no other way to know what was going on under the surface, especially when Dean had gone silent, as if he had never screamed in the first place.

There was no other way around it, he would need to use his grace, even to just see what injuries had lay below the surface.

  
  


He exhaled slowly, reaching out with his grace as he did so. Carefully, so as not to startle Dean, or overwhelm him with too much too fast, Raphael used the strongest control possible, gently searching out any possible injuries hidden under the surface.

Nearly all of Dean’s nerves were alight with pain, so much that there was hardly any room for anything else. But all the pain seemed to be radiating through his body, from one specific source.

Following the firing nerves, the tensing muscles, and the source of agony, Raphael slowly narrowed the source down to Dean’s right arm.

With gentle hands, Raphael pulled Dean into his lap, placing one of his hands over Dean’s arm, focusing his grace to better identify the extent of the injury, and how best to heal it.

What he found nearly had him in tears.

There was a radial fracture, stretching all the way up his humerus. It was horrifying, finding just how fragile Dean’s bones were. He hadn’t fallen far, or even all that fast. It was a fall that Raphael had seen several other children Dean’s age take, none of them taking more injury than a basic sprain. For Dean’s arm to break so badly, he normally would have needed to fall with far more force than he had. But there wasn’t time to question what had caused the injury to become so bad.

Quietly whispering words of comfort to Dean, Raphael shifted his grace, letting it flow through his hand, and into Dean’s arm, allowing it to wrap around the broken bone, filling all the places where it had fractured.

He watched as the grace began to merge with the bone, replacing the sections that had broken, and enforcing the seams, in an effort to keep it from breaking again.

Taking a slow breath, Raphael pulled his grace away, adjusting his hold on Dean, pulling him close so the boy could wrap his limbs around him.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he whispered, running a hand up and down Dean’s back, as the other held the boy’s head as it buried itself into Raphael’s neck. “You’re alright, I promise.”

Not wanting to stay away from his mate any longer than needed, as well as knowing that Dean would not be able to hold out against the slight chill that was growing in the air, Raphael adjusted his grip once more, before standing, holding Dean carefully as he walked back to the bench where Gabriel was waiting.

Shaking his head at Gabriel’s questioning glance, Raphael sat back on the bench. “I’ll tell you later,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he took a moment to relax.

There was a sigh from Gabriel, and Raphael couldn’t help but agree with the silent sentiment.

“Do you think we should go ahead and take the boys to lunch?” Gabriel asked quietly, and Raphael turned to face his mate, nodding after a moment.

“That would be for the best,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “Somewhere for lunch, and maybe a trip for a surprise after.”

Gabriel grinned, shifting Sam to a single arm, as he reached into the paper bag that Patience had given them, pulling out another soft blanket. “I think that this is a good time for the first surprise.” The soft fleece blanket was the same size as the one Patience had included for Sam. though this one was not adorned with puppies. Instead, it was a dark gray blanket with silhouettes of cats in a softer gray. It was one of the cutest things that Raphael had ever seen, and he quickly worked with Gabriel to wrap it around Dean.

With a smile, Raphael leaned over to kiss his mate, allowing himself to lean against Gabriel’s forehead for several moments, before pulling away to stand. “Let’s get them something to eat, before it gets too late.”

* * *

The diner that they ended up at was one of Gabriel’s favorite in the world. Not only because it was in the place that his daughter had poured so much time and love into, but also because it was a warm, comforting place.

Themed after the biker bars that it’s owner had grown up in and around, yet with none of the alcohol that usually came with such a place, the Roadhouse was a near perfect place for any occasion.

Ellen, who ran the establishment, had set up a table in the corner as soon as they had walked in the door, pulling up a booster seat for Sam, setting it by the side of one of the benches of the booth table.

“I see you boys found yourselves some new charges!” Ellen exclaimed, reaching out to give both Raphael and Gabriel gentle side hugs around the small forms of the boys, before guiding them into the booth. 

“We did,” Gabriel slid into his booth, gently running a hand through Sam’s hair as the boy started to shift, showing signs that he was waking up. “This cutie here is Sam, and the ray of sunshine over by Raph is his older brother, Dean.”

Ellen nodded, smiling at Dean, who was still crying quietly, even as he looked at her, head resting on Raphael’s shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Ellen, and I like to think that I’m a pretty good friend of Gabe and Raph here, so I can tell ya right away that you’re in good hands, you and your brother both.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but gave a slight, watery smile, which was enough of a victory for Gabriel. “How about we start with some waters, and a round of chocolate milks for all of us while we look over the menu?”

There was a nod from Ellen, who gave them all another smile before walking over towards the bar.

Deciding to give Sam a few minutes to wake up on his own, instead of trying to speed up the process, Gabriel looked towards Raphael, starting up a conversation. “Do you have anything that you want to do while we’re still out?” Sure, the plans for the day had been decided already, but it would be a good idea for Sam and Dean to feel that they were able to make decisions about how their days should go.

Raphael was nodding, clearly in agreement. “Well, we’ve already gotten the boys clothes, so I was thinking that we could see about getting them other things, such as toys and games, stuffed toys, books, and other such items that they would likely enjoy.”

But Dean was shaking his head. “Don’t need it,” he mumbled, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Dean, Kiddo,” Gabriel said quietly, knowing that this that this was going to be a long recurrent argument due to John’s negligence, “We want you and Sam to have new things that belong to  _ you  _ because you both deserve them.”

“Don’t  _ need  _ it,” Dean repeated. “Don’t you already have stuff at home anyway? From your other  _ charges _ ?”

“We do this for all our charges,” Raphael said. “All of them. Whatever they might have left at home is old, worn or broken.”

“It’s  _ good enough _ ,” Dean promised.

Raphael shifted Dean slightly so that he was able to hug the child. “It’s not. It’s not good enough. You and your brother deserve your own brand new things, chosen by you and specifically for you.”

With a sigh, Gabriel chimed in. “You and Sam  _ can  _ still look through whatever’s left from the others, if you want to, but we do want you two to have your own things, if only because a fair bit of what the others have is either broken in some way, missing pieces, or for kids younger than you two are.”

A slight lie, since they had leftover toys from nearly every age group, but they  _ were _ likely all broken in some way, if only because kids typically didn’t treat toys well as a whole. Not to mention how long it had been since there had been actual children in their home, and not just the occasional teenager needing a safe landing space, or their grown charges coming back to visit.

That and the safety of some of those toys was highly questionable. Lawn darts had always been a bad idea, anyway.

Gabriel had a feeling that the conversation would have continued, if it weren’t for Sam pushing away from him to sit up, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and Ellen bringing them their drinks.

“Alright, four waters, and a round of chocolate milks,” she trailed off, passing the drinks around the table, before laying menus in front of Gabriel and Raphael. “I’ll give ya’ll a few minutes to decide what you want. Whenever you’re ready, just give me or Jo a holler, and we’ll take care of whatever you need.”

“Thanks Ellen, we’ll let you two know if we need anything.” Raphael was smiling, before moving to pull one of the smaller, child size cups close enough for Dean to reach.

As Ellen walked away, Gabriel reached for one of the other small cups, with a safe, spill resistant lid, holding it in front of a still yawning Sam. “Hey kiddo, do you want some water?”

There was another yawn from Sam, before the boy was nodding. Before he could grab at the cup though, he froze, cheeks turning a bright pink. Gabriel was about to question what was wrong, before he felt the warm dampness spreading from Sam’s lap.

Not wanting to potentially embarrass Sam, Gabriel slid out of the bench, strategically positioning the blanket to keep anyone from noticing what had happened. “Sam needs to use the restroom real quick. You two look over the menu, and we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He could feel Dean’s eyes on him as he carried Sam to the bathroom, but he didn’t falter in his steps. The revelation that Dean had any inkling of the dangers of predators wasn’t a surprise, but it was another thing that horrified Gabriel, and he could feel that same quiet horror from Raphael as he started to ask him about what he wanted to eat.

Entering one of the several family friendly restrooms, Gabriel carried Sam over to a sturdy changing table, setting him atop it. He didn’t move too far away, as Sam was clinging to his shirt, even as small tears started to roll down his cheeks.

“I sorry,” he whispered, not quite meeting Gabriel’s eyes, even as he prevented him from leaving. “Didn’t mean to.”

Gabriel sighed, smiling sadly as he ran a hand through Sam’s hair. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart. You drank a good bit at breakfast, and we didn’t try to go before we left the house. Raphael and I should have made sure that this wouldn’t be an issue, but we all make our mistakes, and learn from them.”

“But,” Sam blushed again, looking at his clothes, and the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. “I made mess.”

“Sam, I like to think that I’m capable of cleaning up a mess like this, without too much drama. Do you want to stay in what you’re wearing now? Or do you want me to get one of your other puppy outfits?”

Sam was quiet for a minute, before he pulled a hand away from Gabriel, to instead clutch at his own shirt. “Like this puppy.”

With a nod, Gabriel waved a hand, cleaning and drying Sam’s outfit and blanket, making them soft and warm, as if they had just come out of the wash. “There we are.” Smiling softly, he helped Sam off of the changing table, holding his hand as they walked towards the toilet. “Do you want to try and potty, to try and keep it from happening again?”

At Sam’s nod, Gabriel moved to help the boy through his business, lifting him to be able to sit on the toilet, and helping him to wash his hands. The boy was humming to himself, the tune of some rock song, tongue poking out slightly as he tried to concentrate on getting his hands as clean as possible. It would have been adorable, if it weren’t for the condition of the tiny teeth that were peeking out from within Sam’s mouth.

Dental hygiene clearly hadn’t been a priority for John Winchester, and it was more than apparent in Sam. It was likely that Dean was having the same issues, but without being able to get a good look, it would be hard to tell.

But that would be a discussion for another day.

For now, he had another issue he wanted to broach with Sam.

Helping Sam to dry his hands, he carried Sam back to the changing table, setting the boy on it so he could be more eye level. “Alright, Kiddo. I’ve got something I want to ask you before we go back to the table. I know that what happened seemed to upset you, and I have something that should help.” Reaching out with his grace, he summoned a pair of pullups, holding them in front of Sam. “It’s supposed to help keep you from getting wet if you have another accident, and Dean doesn’t have to know if you don’t want him to.”

Sam frowned softly, reaching to poke at the pullup with a finger. “Diaper?”

Laughing quietly, Gabriel shook his head. “No, it’s not a diaper. It’s a little similar, but it’s less noticeable, and a bit more age appropriate, while still helping to protect against accidents.” Watching as Sam was still frowning, Gabriel sighed. “It’s up to you, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Sam considered, then nodded. “But don’t tell Dean?”

Gabriel nodded. “Dean only gets to know if you want him to know.”

“And Raph?”Sam asked quietly.

That was a more interesting quandary. Gabriel wasn’t inclined to keep  _ anything  _ from his mate, but at the same time, it was also important to establish some sense of trust. Yet it was also important for the kids to understand that he and Raphael were a  _ united front _ . Just as neither he, nor Raphael, would  _ ever  _ consider using any child or any of their charges as a weapon against the other in the same way that divorced parents often did, it was also not acceptable for any of their charges to try to pit one of them against the other.

“Do you want Raph to know?” Gabriel asked, decided not to worry about the rest until he knew it was an issue.

Sam shook his head, but Gabriel knew that it wasn’t a no, but rather that the wrong question was being asked. “Raph  _ care _ ?”

“No, Raph won’t care,” Gabriel said. “If you’re asking if he’ll be okay with it, of course. We’ve raised a few children from newborns before. If you need pullups, then you need pullups, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I would like Raph to know, though, if you’re okay with it. We can both take better care of you and Dean if we both know what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded. “I wear it, you tell Raph.”

Gabriel dressed Sam again, this time with the pullup underneath. “How does that feel?”

“Soft!” Sam exclaimed.

Gabriel smiled. “It is, isn’t it.” Only the best for their charges. Only the best. “Shall we go rejoin Dean and Raph for lunch?”

Sam nodded, and Gabriel scooped the child back up onto his hip. “There we go.” Sam laughed in response.

Stepping out of the family restroom, Gabriel found Raphael leaning against the wall next to the first family restroom. There were four bathrooms, all of them family size, with two on one side of the hallway and two on the other.

“Dean’s in the restroom as well,” Raphael said in way of explanation when Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything alright on your end?”

Gabriel nodded. “Everything’s fine.”  _ “Sam opted for a pullup,” _ he added silently to ensure he wouldn’t be overheard by anyone. He didn’t want to betray Sam’s trust or reveal his confidences. Sam had said that Raph could know, and now he did. As an afterthought he added,  _ “I’m not sure any of our charges have ever had such a set of unhealthy teeth.” _

Raphael blinked.  _ “Were you able to tell how many teeth he has?” _

_ “You can count them yourself when we go home. Dean’s too. I suspect his are in similar or worse condition.” _

There was a sigh from Raphael, but Gabriel was already moving back to the table, sitting back where he had been a minute ago. After giving Sam a moment to decide how he wanted to sit, he grabbed one of the menus, flipping it to the section for kids’ meals. “Alright Kiddo, looks like our Safe for Sammy options are chicken fingers, grilled cheese, or some macaroni and cheese.”

Sam hummed softly in thought, before pointing at the picture of the mac and cheese. “Want that,” he pointed for several moments longer, before leaning to reach for his chocolate milk, which had somehow ended up just out of his reach.

Smiling, Gabriel moved the cup until it was well within Sam’s reach, letting the child grab and pull it closer on his own. Motor skills were important, after all, same for independence, while having a safety net as needed. Raphael and Dean were returning as Sam started to drink, Dean deciding to sit next to Gabriel and Sam, instead of sitting next to Raphael.

“Do you need any help with the menu?” 

Dean was shaking his head, pulling the menu closer to himself, staring at the menu blankly. Gabriel shared a glance with Raphael, and knew that his mate was thinking the same thing.

There was something strange going on, but it would take a little longer to figure out what.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, we got distracted for a bit there, but we're back! We hope you enjoy this new chapter, even if it's a little short.

After he got past the disappointment of Dean not wishing to sit with him, Raphael took the opportunity to watch the boy. He and Gabriel were in agreement that something strange was going on with Dean, and he was fully intent on figuring out what.

Dean was squinting at the menu, as if not understanding what the words on the pages were saying, or if he couldn’t see the words on the page. It was similar to the children that they had raised over the years who had needed glasses, but Raphael wasn’t certain. There were times that he seemed to be able to see properly, and others when it seemed that he couldn’t see anything more than six inches in front of him.

The inconsistencies were worrying, but with a little luck, it wouldn’t end up being anything that Raphael and Gabriel hadn’t found their way through before.

But that still left the problem of how to discuss the issue with him.

That would be something to discuss at a later point though, as Ellen was walking back to the table, Jo by her side. “Alright boys, I’m being called away for some business on the other side of town, so I’m leaving you with Jo.” Kneeling down slightly, so she was better on eye level with Dean, she continued. “Jo’s my daughter, and she’s known these two her whole life. So feel free to ask her for anything you need, or even if you just want to talk to her, alright?”

Dean was looking at Ellen with no small amount of uncertainty, but eventually he slowly nodded, and Raphael felt some small amount of tension drain out of him. Maybe, they would be able to work through this, and have the conversation they need to without too much drama.

Jo nodded, before stepping forward, a small notepad in her hands. “Alrighty, like she said, I’m Jo, and I’m gonna be taking care of ya. So, do you already have an idea of what you want?”

Gabriel nodded, bouncing Sam in his lap. “Well, I’ll take my usual, and Sammy wants the mac and cheese. Raph?”

“I think I’ll take my usual as well, with the shrimp, and a lemon for my water.” He passed his menu to Jo, before looking towards Dean. “Have you decided what you want to eat, Dean? Or do you need another minute to think?”

And just like that, the fear was back in Dean’s stance. “Umm, I…” he trailed off, staring back at the menu with wide eyes. “Peanut butter and jelly?” He finally asked, voice so quiet, it was nearly inaudible.

Raphael’s heart broke, as he watched Jo shake her head. “Sorry Hun, we don’t have the things for that. If you want, we have grilled cheese, or a burger, or some french toast?”

Jo was trying her best, anyone could see it, but it was clear that Dean was quickly reaching his breaking point. His hands were shaking, and Raphael could see that there were small tears that were slowly falling down his cheeks. “But, I,” his voice was shaking, as he stumbled through trying to find the words needed to explain whatever it was that he meant to say.

Raphael looked towards Gabriel, and in a moment, they were in action. Gabriel shifted his hold on Sam, lifting him over the table, where Raphael took him, letting him sit on the edge of the table, distracting him from the upset that Dean was experiencing. Without hesitation, Gabriel pulled Dean into his lap, holding him close as the boy cried, never once attempting to quiet him as he gasped and sobbed.

_ “Should I just magic the sandwich for him?”  _ Gabriel asked Raphael, silently, with a questioning look.

Raphael shook his head.  _ “If this was simply about the sandwich, it might be worth considering. But I think it’s a bad idea. He’s going to feel embarrassed enough about this as it is, if our understanding of John Winchester is correct, but giving him the sandwich too?” _

_ “He won’t take it well,”  _ Gabriel guessed, following what Raphael was getting at.

“Should I come back?” Jo whispered, looking at Raphael.   
  
“It’s been a long morning,” Raphael whispered. “Could you bring some plain pancakes along with Gabriel’s order?”

Jo nodded, and walked away with a last pitying look at Dean.

_ “He didn’t even want us buying things for him. He’d just be upset if we ‘caved’. If he still wants it after we get home, it would be a reasonable afternoon snack. Now, I couldn’t tell for sure, but I think this was more than his not being able to read the menu. He was staring pretty blankly at it.” _

Gabriel sharply inhaled.  _ “I knew I was forgetting something. Patience mentioned something earlier, I may as well not have heard it. She mentioned something about how we should bring Dean back ‘after he gets glasses’.”  _

_ “So he can pick out clothing he can actually see. That makes sense. But I‘m just not sure how down for going to the optometrist he’s going to be. He needs to go, though. There’s a difference between just magicing him the correct lenses and understanding what it means. They’re also going to have a specialized understanding in why his eyes might be the way they are than I could find, but not easily.” _

His mate rolled his eyes.  _ “You don’t need to find excuses for what you think is best. You want the kid to go to an eye doctor? We’ll go to an eye doctor. The real question is, do we really want to go today?”  _

Raphael shook his head.  _ “Dean’s overwhelmed already, an eye doctor appointment won’t help. But I think we have to go talk to them at least. Dean tripped over the same balance beam twice. Even if he didn’t see it the second time, he  _ should  _ have had some indication it was there. While it’s true that kids can be clumsy, I just don’t think that’s what happened there. If he couldn’t see us, he may have also genuinely panicked that we’d taken Sam and left, and I just don’t think we can continue with our errands without a better understanding of his vision.” _ _   
  
_

Jo brought out their food. “Mac and cheese for the little one.” She put the plate down to the side of Raphael. “Strawberry and whip cream covered pancakes for He Who Has A Sweet Tooth with a side of plain pancakes, and your shrimp alfredo, along with that lemon for your water.” She placed down the plates of food as she said these things. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

Raphael shook his head. “Thank you so much.”

“Not a problem. Just holler if you need anything.” With that, Jo disappeared again, helping other customers.

Raphael handed Sammy the small child’s fork and kept an eye on him to see if he could feed himself while also taking a bite of his shrimp alfredo.

_ “How many teeth does he have?”  _ Gabriel asked, silently, goading Raphael for his earlier asking of the same question.

_ “Let’s find out.”  _ Raphael put his own fork down so that he could maneuver Sammy’s fork for him. “Can you say ahh for me?” he asked, holding up the bite of food.   
  
Sammy stared at him for a moment, and then followed the direction. This allowed Raphael to feed him while counting all his teeth.

_ “He has  _ all  _ his baby teeth.”  _ Raphael’s mental tone conveyed a bit of awe at this.  _ “They’re in terrible condition, but he has twenty of them. I wasn’t expecting him to be old enough for that.” _

_ “Three is pretty normal for healthy children to have developed all their baby teeth, right?” _

_ “That’s right. Underfed and malnourished children should have delayed development, but I was thinking Sam’s two or three, not four or five. Did you happen to see whether or not Dean had any adult teeth yet?” _

_ “No. Besides, I’d probably have some trouble figuring out which is which. Let’s just use the restorative toothpaste and go from there. Or, you know, ask Dean how old he is.” _

Dean was still clinging to Gabriel, though his sobs had died down. It seemed that he had just really needed to cry, and there was nothing wrong with that. Being a child was difficult at best, and absolutely terrible at worst.

Gabriel put some of the plain pancake onto his own plate, cutting it into small, bite size pieces, before offering it to Dean. Though it seemed for a moment that Dean would pull away, he eventually opened his mouth, allowing Gabriel to feed him the pancake.

_ “Looks like kiddo has a full set, minus one or two, but that could be due to the second set coming in.” _

_ “Or loss from decay,” _ Raphael pointed out, gently correcting the way Sam was holding the small fork that had come with his food. “Like this, sweetheart.”

Sam tried to copy how Raphael was holding his fork, but it seemed like he just didn’t have the fine motor skills needed, so he ended up just holding it in a closed fist, stabbing it into the cheesy noodles. “Like this?”

With an indulgent smile, Raphael nodded softly. “Sure, Sam. We can work on it more at home, if you’d like.” Sam was looking confused, even as he tried to move the noodles to his open mouth, unintentionally smearing cheese sauce on his cheek along the way.

It was an amusing sight, and one that warmed Raphael’s heart. To know that Sam was lucky enough to still hold some level of innocence, even as just a result of his lack of memory, was more of a blessing than anything else.

Dean was still quietly crying, laying limply against Gabriel as he fed the boy pieces of pancake. Both Raphael and Gabriel knew that there was little time before Dean would fall asleep after the morning he’d had, and they were more than willing to let him rest.

* * *

It hadn’t been long after he finished the pancake that Dean had fallen asleep, breath gently puffing against Gabriel’s neck. Sam had finished his mac and cheese, and with Raphael’s help, was working on eating some of Raphael’s alfredo, along with strips of chicken that Jo had brought them not long after Dean had fallen asleep.

Sighing softly, Gabriel adjusted his hold on Dean, before smiling at Raphael. “It looks like these kids are determined to turn me into a child bed,” he laughed softly, making a silly face towards Sam, who was giggling as he ate a strip of grilled chicken.

“Funny Gabey,” Sam smiled softly, having shifted at some point from on top of the table to sitting on Raphael’s lap. “Dee sleepy.”

Gabriel nodded. “Dean is sleepy, so we need to be quiet and let him sleep. Alright?”

Sam was nodding then, and Gabriel watched as the boy raised his free hand, positioning it in front of his mouth in the universal sigh to hush. “Shush,” he whispered, and Gabriel felt his heart melt.

“That’s right, Sammy, we need to be quiet, and let him sleep, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. We just need to keep our volume down, and use our inside voices.” Raphael was keeping his voice down, as an example to Sam, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

His mate had always been so good with children, and it was just one of the many things that made him fall in love with him in the first place. 

Sam nodded again, before continuing to eat his chicken.

* * *

In the end, they went to the eye doctor right after lunch, instead of going home. Sam had fallen asleep again, stuffed full of mac and cheese and chicken, so while it might have been better to take them home so they could sleep in a place that would not overwhelm them so much, but Raphael felt that finding out what was wrong with Dean’s vision was more important. The human system wouldn’t necessarily allow them to have glasses for Dean the same day, which meant that getting him in sooner meant he’d get them sooner.

The optometrist was down the street from the Roadhouse, so Raphael and Gabriel walked side by side, sleeping children in their arms. It was a reminder of past charges. Some children would just not sleep unless held in the arms of a guardian who would keep them safe.

All of their charges had been through a lot. Ending up in their care was a last resort. A desperate measure. It tended to mean that humanity had completely and utterly failed them. Or their kind.

Hela and her siblings had come after the flood intended to destroy the nephilim of old, but Raphael and Gabriel didn’t consider the nephilim they’d saved to have been their charges, for all that they’d protected them with the same measures they’d would later always use to protect their children.

The nephilim had been their nieces and nephews, not their children. Kin they’d cared about, not raised. They had protected them from the flood sent to murder the lot of them, and set them up with new identities and lives afterwards, as pagans, but for the most part, that was where their claim ended.

Not all of the pagans had been nephilim first. Some had just been humans who had grown into some powers because belief lended itself to strong magics.

The Norse Pantheon had been unique in that only the original Loki had been a nephilim, and they’d found out. Hela and her siblings had been demigods, but more than that, they were of nephilim blood. He’d called for Gabriel and Raphael with his dying breaths, wishing only for the safety of his children. His wife was dead, his children scattered.

They’d promised, not knowing what it was that they were really promising, and the magic did the rest. They’d become the next Loki and Sigyn, because there was still belief that the two deities existed. There always would be some belief, even thousands of years later after the stories were almost forgotten entirely. Such a thing allowed aspects to change.

Immortalized ideas. Concepts. When the retellings changed, the gods changed too.

“How may I help you?”

The waiting area was empty, Raphael supposed that was likely because they didn’t schedule appointments around lunch.

“Are these your new charges?”

The eye doctor, an older man by the name of Brown, was sitting at the receptionist’s desk. Raphael supposed Clara, his wife, was probably out for lunch. He nodded. “Sam and Dean,” he answered, nodding to the children. “I was wondering if you could do an eye exam on Dean here, and I was curious about the intricacies of how damage to the head might affect vision.”

The doctor grinned. “Even we humans haven’t figured that one out. Sometimes a blow to the head can lead to temporary or permanent blindness, sometimes it can cause a blindspot that a person doesn’t even know is there. What are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure. We’re just… worried.”

“Understandable. Anyway, do you just want me to run a full eye exam, starting with checking to see if he needs glasses?”

“That would be great,” Gabriel said. “I’ll just… wake him up?”

* * *

The appointment took longer than any appointment Raphael had ever known one to take, by more than double, not that he could blame Dean for being scared and uncooperative. But they had their answers, now.

Dean's vision was worse than he or Gabriel had expected it to be. Bad enough that it was a surprise that Dean could read at all, but he could.

There was something more to it, though, than just really bad eyesight. Once the doctor had manipulated the goggles to the prescription his eyeglasses would be, Dean had been genuinely shocked at the appearance of the details he'd been unable to see before that.

As if he hadn't had any idea at all that the things outside his vision still existed.

Raphael was familiar with the fact that for most small children, if something went out of sight it might as well have ceased to exist. Small children were also unable to describe a scene as seen from the perspective of someone on the other side of the table, because they subconsciously believed their eyesight was the only view.

What did that say about Dean's view of the world?

"How are you feeling?" Raphael asked, addressing the child back in his arms.

Dean kneaded his temples with his fists, suggesting he might have a headache. The Healer wasn't surprised.

"They've been so well behaved today, I think they deserve ice cream," Gabriel said. "What do you think, Dean?"

Dean said nothing, simply put his head down on Raphael's shoulder.

"I agree that they both deserve a treat, but since we have some at home, I think they'd be better off sleeping in a bed." 

"Please?" Dean whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear the pleading tone.

Raphael glanced at Gabriel. "You want to go home?" He rubbed Dean's back as he considered that this was the most clearly he'd asked for something all day.

Dean nodded. 

Raphael felt something wet under his shoulder and realized Dean was crying silently into his shirt. It had been a difficult day for the boy, and while he could understand Gabriel’s wish for some positive reinforcement for allowing them to do what was needed to make sure Dean was alright, it wasn’t what the boy needed. “Alright,” he whispered, adjusting his hold on Dean slightly so he would be more comfortable, before gently pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “We’ll go home.”


	10. Chapter 10

The archangels put the sleeping children in the bed in Dean's room, deciding that the hassle the night before with them in different rooms was not worth repeating. Dean settled as soon as Sam was next to him, which mostly confirmed Lucifer's mention that they had been sharing space for a long time.

Afterwards, they returned to the kitchen. The bags of purchases needed to be put away, probably into dressers in Dean's room. There were still other things they would need, toys, toiletries, and other things, but those would have to wait.

There was a note from Hela mentioning that she'd be spending the night with Patience, and that she would see them the following day. 

"They're so cute," Raphael said quietly. "Young love… it is so adorable."

Gabriel smirked. "Don't let them hear you say that. We're not supposed to know."

"I know," Raphael replied. "Is it going to feel strange when she moves out? They're the first of our children, but she's lived here for so long…"

Hela's siblings came and went as they pleased, sometimes disappearing for a few hundred years at a time before inevitably returning for some reason or another. But Hela never did that. Her court was the longest she spent away from home at a time, most years.

“All of the children we have raised or looked after leave the nest eventually,” Gabriel said. "Hela and her siblings may have stayed around longer than the rest, but that doesn't mean she won't come back." He reached to touch Raphael's face. " You were there when Fen alluded to the possibility of Patience proposing to Hela this year. I don't see them going far away, but it'll be okay if they do. They'll be fine."

"I miss them," Raphael said quietly.

Gabriel knew that his mate wasn't referring to Hela or her siblings, but rather the rest of the children they'd looked after over the years. They saw even Hela's brothers more often than most of them.

"You would miss them even if they lived in a house in the backyard."

Raphael leaned into Gabriel’s touch. “You say that as if you don’t miss them just as much.”

* * *

Lucifer and Michael returned to the kitchen within the hour. Gabriel and Raphael had put the clothing away and the children were still sleeping so they had just returned to the kitchen.

“Apologies for having to leave so suddenly,” Lucifer’s voice was low, in an attempt to keep from waking the children in the other room. “It wasn’t as serious as first thought, but they didn’t know for sure, and the Detective decided it would be best to call me in.”

Raphael waved a hand, smiling softly around his mug of tea. “By all means, we don’t want to keep you from what you need to do. I take it all went well though?”

Michael nodded, pulling out a chair so Lucifer could sit. “It’s still an ongoing case, but they’re confident that they can handle it without us.”

“That’s always good,” Gabriel mumbled, but Raphael could tell that his heart wasn’t in it.

Clearly, they all needed to have a long, difficult conversation. One that was far past due.

With a sigh, Raphael reached to hold Gabriel’s hand, squeezing it gently, before taking a deep breath.

“I think we all know that we need to have this conversation, especially since the boys adore you, and I think it would be best for all of us to be there for them as they grow up.” He started, looking at the others around the table. “But we need to be a united front to make it work, the same way that we were with our younger siblings, and we all know that there are things in the past that would make that incredibly difficult without talking about it first.”

He could feel Gabriel tense up, could see the shock and pain on Michael and Lucifer’s faces, and was questioning if he had made a mistake when Gabriel finally nodded.

“I don’t want there to be any fighting.” His voice was quiet, and he stared at the table. “Not like back then. No one in heaven deserved to have to hear that, and these kids especially don’t deserve it. Dad knows they’ve been through enough.”

And that was the heart of it. Each of them knew what the boys had been through, at least to some extent. At the end of the day, regardless of how any of them felt about the others, they needed to do their best to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the children.

Raphael nodded. “That was the first rule that Gabriel and I established for ourselves when we left, and began fostering children who needed it. If we were going to have disagreements for any reason, we would talk it through as adults, or wait until we were in private to discuss it. We made a promise to ourselves that we would not allow our arguments to reach a place where our children would see, unless we knew for a fact that they were able to handle it. None of them have, or are. They shouldn’t have to be.”

“We never fought in front of any of them!” Michael was glaring, looking for all the world that he was barely holding back a shout.

With a deep breath to steady himself, Raphael stared down Michael, eyes narrowing. “Perhaps not visually, or if you did, it wasn’t intentional. But you two were so  _ loud _ , they could all hear it regardless, and it traumatized so many of them. They were all so scared that at any moment, something would go wrong, and you would try to take your frustrations out on any one of them.”

Beside him, Gabriel was nodding. “We weren’t the only ones who left, did you know that? We just happened to be able to stay away, and not be dragged back.” Raphael watched as his mate looked down at the mug in his hands. “They trusted us. All of us, to guide and protect them. And we all failed, until we were able to get away, and found a group of children who needed some extra love."

Raphael nodded, reaching to gently squeeze Gabriel's hand as he spoke. "We took them in, not because we thought that we could do better, but because they deserved to have someone to take care of them, when they had been thrown away by those who should have loved them. They were innocent children, about to be slaughtered for the crime of being born. For us to simply walk away would be inhumane, and against everything that Father taught us when we were young."

"You were the ones who saved the Nephilim? They were forbidden!" Michael was shouting now, and Raphael had to act quickly to keep the sound from carrying to the rest of the home.

"Michael, if you do not lower your voice, and act as the adult you claim to be, I will be forced to ask you to leave, and not return." His voice was level, a deceptive calm that he had perfected over the centuries. "And they had committed no crimes. They were  _ children _ , no different than the two boys you see in the other room."   
  
Lucifer reached for Michael’s arm with a hand, and then put his other hand on top of Michael’s, scratching it gently. “They were still family, Michael. That should have been enough.”

Gabriel nodded shakily, speaking softly as Raphael reached to gently squeeze his knee. “It was more than enough. We took them in without fully realizing who and what they were, until they were older and started growing into their powers. We kept them safe and after the flooding ended and things died down, we helped them establish themselves. They deserved our protection simply by existing."

"Okay," Michael said, sighing. "But we are way off topic, I think."

“We are, but Gabriel brought up a fair point regardless.” Raphael gently stroked his mate’s knee with his thumb, knowing that he was likely desperate for the comfort. “The Nephilim, and their children, are our family. The fact that they were born of our younger siblings should have been more than enough from the beginning, but everyone decided that it wasn’t, and they were abandoned and sentenced to death for the crime of being born. A crime that, I feel like I should remind you, is one that they had no part in committing.”

He paused for a moment then, looking across the table at Michael. The eldest seemed to be paying attention to what was being said, but how could one ever truly know? Regardless, he continued. “When we saved the Nephilim from the flood, they were, for the most part, fully grown. They had been looking for answers as to their parentage, and had found naught but hatred from those they had thought would accept them. We found them atop a mountain, surrounded by the ruins of the only life they had ever known, barely staying above the rising water.”

“They knew immediately what we were,” Gabriel cut in, still staring at the table. “But they came with us regardless, because they thought that a chance to live for even a few more minutes was worth the risk of dying at our hands.”

“Obviously, we didn’t kill them, and helped them to better control their power, and to establish themselves as minor deities,” Raphael took back over, moving his hand from Gabriel’s knee, instead taking his hand again. “For a long time, that was the extent of our involvement. We acted as the older siblings we have always been, and offered advice, security, and a safe place to stay when they needed it. But something happened that forced us to get involved, and we haven’t backed away since.”

Lucifer looked as if he was contemplating something, before nodding. “And that’s why the pair of you are acting as pagans.”

Gabriel nodded softly. “I’m not going to get into it, because much of it isn’t our story to tell, but one of the Nephil had found a family among a pantheon, but was betrayed. He called to me, on the brink of death, and begged me to find his children and take them in, the same as we had once taken him and the others in.” After a pause to steady himself, Raphael watched as Gabriel finally looked up from the table, staring Michael down. “Through the act of taking those children in, and becoming a parent to them, and the power of belief, I  _ am _ Loki, the same as I am Gabriel. Those children are  _ mine _ , and I will do anything that is needed to protect them, even if it means I have to fight Father Himself. You? You’re  _ nothing _ compared to what I’ve already faced for those children, and I will not hesitate to do whatever is needed to protect them.”

Feeling the tension building at the table once more, Raphael squeezed Gabriel’s hand, gently pulling him back to take over. “Just as they are Gabriel’s children, they are mine as well. And while I can’t vouch for how willing Gabriel is to commit fratricide and particide, I can promise that any drama, fighting, or threats towards them  _ will _ be answered for, one way or another.” He allowed his words to hang in the air for a moment, before continuing. “Though they are all grown, they still find themselves staying with us more often than not, and they are all currently here with us. I have helped them recover from traumas that you could not even begin to imagine, and I will not see either of you do anything to bring those traumas back. Do I make myself clear?”

Raphael didn’t know what he was expecting, but for some reason, it wasn’t for Lucifer to start speaking.

“When I first came to earth, and decided that I would stay, I needed to set up a solid persona, and even with the help of Maze, it was proving harder than expected. It was through the help of a pagan that any of what I’ve had the last several years was possible, even though he clearly knew who and what I was.”

Michael looked shocked then, staring at Lucifer with a strange kind of uncertainty on his face. “You never told me that.”

Lucifer shrugged. “For all that you are warm around our siblings, your distaste for half-breeds and other deities is more than well known. I did not want to chance you going after the poor soul, after everything that he did to help me.”

“And that’s part of why I haven’t taken us back to the original topic of discussion,” Raphael spoke quietly, though he knew that his words held no less impact than they would have if he had shouted them. “You have prejudices, and it will do nothing but hurt those who live here. Earlier, we both mentioned that we have saved our children, and protected them against harm, both physical and mental. That is why we made sure to not have arguments in front of them. Several of them have come from homes and lives that have been less than loving, and can not tolerate such things. Sam and Dean included. We don’t know what all the atrocities John Winchester committed against them were, but treating them carefully is  _ essential _ .”

“I… might be able to shed  _ some  _ light on that, actually.” Lucifer sighed, looking away. “Sam and I have been dream walking for… the last year, about? He’s six, and Dean is ten, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from just looking at them.”

Raphael stared at Lucifer in shock. He couldn’t believe how old the pair truly were, not with how small they looked, and how young they behaved when compared to others of their age groups. There was obviously room for variation in the maturity levels of those in any age group, but there was just something horrifying about  _ knowing _ just how badly stunted their growth had been in so many ways.

But Lucifer was still talking.

“Sam’s a real smart kid though, so I was able to help make sure that they were able to budget their money properly, after all, I  _ do _ run a functional nightclub and have to budget it out, and helping two kids who don’t eat all that much figure out how to get the most food for the smallest cost isn’t that much different from running a business, even if Sam had to do some sneaking around to make it work perfectly.”

Raphael’s head was spinning. There were so many questions that he could ask, just from the few things that Lucifer had said so far, but where to begin? Did he start by trying to ask for more details about Sam and Dean’s personal lives, so as to make them more comfortable in their new home? Or should he try to ask about the hardships that they had been through, to try and find a way to help Dean understand that such things would not happen again?

Before he could make any decisions though, there was a soft knock against the doorframe that led into the hallway, and he looked over to see Fenrir, who was holding a bundle wrapped in a blanket covered in puppies.

“I know you probably didn’t want to be disturbed, but he woke up and was asking about you,” Fenrir spoke softly, walking towards Raphael. “We all figured it would be best to interrupt and let him see you, instead of waiting for you to finish and let him get upset.”

Raphael smiled, standing up and walking to meet Fenrir halfway, taking Sam and pulling him close, even as the boy wrapped his arms around his neck, cuddling close. “It’s alright, I think we we’re just about finished anyway. We all have a lot to think about right now.” There were still plenty of things he wanted to ask about, things they needed to know about the children, and John Winchester was once again unaccounted for, but they could wait. Nothing was more important than ensuring that the child in his arms, and his brother, were safe and happy.

Looking down at Sam, he gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Did you just want some hugs, little one?” He asked, wanting nothing more than to gauge what the boy needed at that moment.

Sam nodded softly, a quiet, “Missed you,” whispered into Raphael’s neck, and the Archangel nodded.

“Well, that’s more than possible. Why don’t you come and sit with us, and we can see about getting you something to eat?” Looking back up to Fenrir, Raphael smiled at him. “Thank you, Fen. I think we’ve got it from here, but let us know if Dean wants us too?”

Fenrir grinned before turning to leave. “Kiddo’s still asleep, but we’ll keep an eye on the situation.” He paused for a moment then, looking back at Raphael. “I think Hela might be on her way back soon, and might be bringing a friend over. We’ll make sure Dean knows too.”

That was news. Hela’s note had indicated that she intended to spend the night with Patience. He hoped she was feeling alright, and that something hadn’t gone wrong. Hela deserved every happiness, and if Patience made her happy, that was a good thing. And if Hela was ready to bring Patience home, that was her decision.

“Hela?” Lucifer asked, brow furrowing.

“Our daughter,” Gabriel snarled, protectively.

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Michael, Lucifer, this is our son, Fenrir. Fen, meet our brothers, Michael and Lucifer.”

Fenrir waved at them, somewhat dismissively, before turning to Raphael. “I’m going back to the others. We’ve got a game of Monopoly going, and I’m in the lead. I wouldn’t put it past Jor and Slip to try and steal my properties while I’m gone.”

Even before Sam and Dean had arrived, there had never been a dull day when the children were home. “As long as we don’t have a repeat of 15 years ago, I think we can live with it.” The couch still didn’t feel the same, after Jor had flung a transformed Fenrir into it in anger after winning while owning only a single set of properties.

“We’re being quiet,” Fenrir assured him. “So we don’t wake Dean.”

“Make sure it stays that way.” Raphael knew he didn’t need to tell his son to be careful, but it made him feel better nonetheless. Not wanting to dismiss his son with what could easily be seen as a needless reminder, he decided to take things a step further, if only to make it clear that he was joking. “Now, go play with your brothers, and remember to play nice, and don’t make anyone throw you into another couch, but if they really want to throw you into something, or you want to throw them into something, go outside. The fresh air would be good for you all.”

Fenrir stared at Raphael for a moment, glancing down at Sam, before rolling his eyes as he turned and walked away, one hand raised to give Raphael a universally rude gesture as he went. Gabriel laughed like a madman, bending over the table from the force of the laughter.

Rolling his eyes, Raphael turned to look at Sam, who had fallen asleep at some point in the conversation. “Just so you know, Sam, if I catch you doing anything like that before you’re fifteen, I’m going to be disappointed in you.”

The laughter only increased after that.

* * *

Hela woke with a start, Patience’s hand already clasped in hers. There was a sharp jabbing pain in her abdomen, but that wasn’t what had awoken her.

“Boo? What’s wrong?”

Hela turned, letting Patience softly kiss her forehead, soothing her. “I almost died returning from Court, and it scares me that because I never told my parents how much I love you, that if they didn’t know anyway, I could have died and no one would have told you.”

“I think I would have known,” Patience said quietly, squeezing Hela’s hand. “I try not to abuse my psychic powers, but there’s no way I could block something as important as that.”

“You’re family to me. It shouldn’t have to be that way.” She was several thousand years old, and she’d never really given her vulnerabilities great consideration, but it made her sick to think that if she were to die, Patience wouldn’t necessarily hear it from someone who was there, and she deserved that.

She  _ needed  _ to talk to her parents about that, and she didn’t think it could wait until their tea appointment the next day. “I really wanted to spend the night here, and have that lie in with you tomorrow, but may I take you to my home tonight instead?” Hela took a deep breath. “I want to introduce you as my fiance, and I want to talk to Mom.”

Patience pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Of course I’ll go with you. Do you feel up to portalling, or would you rather if we drive and walk?”

  
  
“Let’s drive and walk. Someone can come get us if I can’t walk that far, but I definitely can’t portal us right now. Just let me text Fen and let him know we’ll be there for dinner.”

* * *

“Roll the dice already, Jor.”

There was the sound of things crashing together, landing on something, and silence.

“Jor, move your piece.”

“Son of a bitch, how the hell did I manage to roll  _ another four _ ??? And I’m landing on New York  _ again _ ???”

Dean opened his eyes, catching sight of three individuals sitting on the floor, around a square board. In front of him on the bed was Sammy’s winged puppy. Why wasn’t it with Sammy?

“You know the rules, pay up, or give up.”

“No one’s even bought Boardwalk yet, how the  _ fuck _ do you already have a hotel there?”

One of them shrugged. “Fen’s a bastard. How about you give me your railroads, and I’ll give you the hundred bucks you need to pay him off?”

“You’re just as bad as he is!”

Dean sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he watched Fenrir, and who he assumed were his brothers. The game they seemed to be playing looked familiar, looked like something he might have played with his mom, but he couldn’t remember.

“Aww hell,” Fenrir sighed, turning to look at Dean. “Hey there, kiddo. Sleep well?”

One of the others turned sharply, before whispering something under his breath, smiling nervously at Dean as he started to talk. “Hey, Dean, right? Could you maybe not tell Dad and Papa that the first interaction I had with you was full of me swearing? I’d really rather not be grounded until the end of time over this.”

Dean stared at them, unsure of what to do, when Fenrir stood up, shaking his head. “You’re moving a bit fast there, Slip. Chill out, alright?” He moved closer to where Dean was sitting, kneeling on the floor in front of him. “How’re you doing?”

Still not sure of what was going on, and what to do, Dean shrugged. “I’m ok, I guess.” He froze then, looking around the room, a sharp terror filling him. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s with Raphael and Gabriel,” Fenrir answered, and the panic slowly started to fade away. “If you want, I can take you to them.”

Dean closed his eyes, sitting and breathing for a minute, before shaking his head. Knowing where Sammy was would be good enough. “It’s fine,” he whispered, opening his eyes to look back at Fenrir, almost shocked by the look on his face.

“It’s ok to want things, Dean. You know that, right?”

He shrugged again. “I’m with Sammy, and we’re safe. That’s good enough, right?”

There was a shifting off to the side, and Dean watched the one who had talked earlier move closer, stopping a little bit behind Fenrir. “Dean, is it ok if I talk with you for a little bit?” Dean moved to shrug, but the person raised a hand, shaking his head. “I’m gonna need you to talk if you can, ok? That way, I’ll know better if you need me to stop, or if you need one of us to go get Gabriel and Raphael.”

Dean frowned, an uncomfortable squirming feeling filling him. “Why does it matter? You’re bigger than me, so you make the decisions, right?”

“Is that what someone told you?” Dean waited a moment before nodding, and the person nodded as well, like he understood. “Alright. Well, right now, I want to talk with you, and tell you some stuff about me, but there’s some stuff that might be difficult to listen to. Because of that, I want you to be able to let me know if you need me to stop, if you need a break, or if you just don’t want to talk to me at all anymore. Do you think you can do that for me? And before you answer, I want you to really think about it, and let me know honestly.”

Dean sat for a minute, not really knowing how to continue. He did want to hear what the other had to say, but the warning scared him. But at the same time, he didn’t want to have to worry about what could happen if he said no.

Eventually though, curiosity won out over the fear from the warning.

“I… I think I wanna know.” It was barely a whisper, but it was enough.

The person nodded, smiling softly. “Alright. To start off, I want to introduce myself. My name is Sleipnir, but everyone around here calls me Slip, since it’s a little easier to say sometimes. I’m the older brother of Fenrir and the others, and I don’t have any older siblings, so you and I have that in common.”

“I thought Fen was the oldest?” Dean was confused. He didn’t know what to think about it, or how to feel anything but confused.

But Slip rolled his eyes. “He likes to pretend he is, because he thinks I’m too old to count.” There were sounds of protests from Fenrir, but Dean found himself smiling without really meaning to.

“Like Sammy, whenever I would try to tell him to clean up his stuff before it would get lost!”

Slip nodded. “Just like Sammy.” He moved a bit closer, throwing an arm across Fenrir’s shoulders. “And I bet that you and I are also pretty similar in wanting to make sure that our younger brothers are safe, right?”

When Dean nodded, Slip continued. “Well, a long time ago, before we came to live with Gabriel and Raphael, we used to live somewhere else. And that’s what I want to talk with you about, because I really think it could help you understand that things here,” he pointed down then, like he was pointing to the house, “Are a lot different than things out there.” He was pointing out the window, and Dean understood.

“Like how everything was different after Mom died.”

A sad look crossed Slip’s face then, and a sad looking smile as he nodded. “Everything is different after your mom dies, no matter how old you are. How old were you when it happened?”

Dean looked away from Slip, staring at the blanket that was still wrapped around him, and tracing one of the cats on it with a finger. “I was almost five. It was right after halloween, and she let me keep some of the decorations hung up in my room because it was so much fun going trick or treating. Sammy was dressed up like a puppy, and Mom was an angel.”

“What were you dressed up as, Dean?”

“Mom got me this really cool pirate costume, with an eyepatch and a hook and everything.”

Slip smiled, reaching out to hold Dean’s hand gently. “That’s what you need to remember, above everything else. The good memories of spending time with your mom, and how much she loved you. That’s what’s important, alright?”

Dean nodded, sniffling as his vision got fuzzy, and he had to rub at his eyes again to try and keep from crying. “I want to, but it’s so hard!”

“I know it is, sweetheart,” Slip was moving then, and Dean felt himself being lifted, until he was in someone’s lap, and he was clinging to their shirt. “I know it’s hard to remember the good things when there’s so much bad, but you can’t focus on the bad forever either. It doesn’t let you focus on the good that’s happening now, or the good that can happen in the future.”

He didn’t really understand, but he nodded anyway. “Sammy?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Your mom might be gone, but you still have your Sammy, and you have us too, even though you might not know us very well yet.”

Slip didn’t say anything else for a little while, and it was nice because it felt like a lot, but he wasn’t adding anything else to it.

“Are you ready to get cleaned up for dinner?” Slip asked awhile later. “I think whatever Dad and Papa are making smells really really good. And Sammy is already out there with Raphael, if you’re ready to go see him.”

He nodded helplessly. He wanted to go see Sammy, but he didn’t feel like talking, and he wasn’t sure that he was hungry, either. After the day he’d had, everything just felt like a little bit too much.

* * *

“I think we should have pizza for dinner,” Gabriel said suddenly. Lucifer and Michael had long since retreated to the room Gabriel and Raphael had offered them the night before, so Gabriel and Raphael were sitting at the counter. Sam still slept in Raphael’s arms.

Raphael nodded. “That would be fun. Sam and Dean could pick their own toppings, and we could let them play with the dough.”

“They would both have plenty of fun with that. And the others always had a good time when it came to tossing the dough.” Gabriel agreed, moving to pull out the ingredients for the dough, before pausing as he reached for the flour. “Do we know if Sam and Dean have any food related allergies or sensitivities?”

Raphael shook his head. “No allergies, I checked yesterday. Dean did mention that Sam didn’t like oatmeal this morning, but it's hard to say if that’s a textural sensitivity, or if it’s just personal preference without knowing more.”

Nodding softly, Gabriel reached for a flour that would keep the texture of the dough light and fluffy, without being too dense. “That’s one of those things that we’ll just have to find out as we go, and there’s probably going to be some trial and error in the process.”

There was a smile from Raphael then. “Just like with the first ones,” he looked down at Sam then, squeezing the boy slightly to hug him. “I’ve missed this, I think. Taking care of little ones, and watching them grow up safe and healthy.”

Gabriel smiled, pulling out a bowl to start mixing the dough in. “I know what you mean. I’m proud of the others, and I love them all no matter what, but there’s always going to be something special about caring for a little one.”

“And they all understand that, too.” Raphael continued, gently brushing some of the hair out of Sam’s face. “I talked with Fen and the others last night, and they all agreed that they want to have active roles in Sam and Dean’s lives.”

There was a hum from Gabriel, as he started measuring out the ingredients. “That will be good for all of them. Sam and Dean can feel more of the family bond that we’ve always tried to foster, and the others can get a sense of what it’s like to raise fosterlings of their own, should they choose to in the future.”

“I’m sure they’ll enjoy that,” Raphael said, but his intent was not sarcasm. Hela was the only one of their four that didn’t take off for randomly long periods of time. The other three came and went as they pleased, gone more often than not. They were adults and could do as they pleased, so he didn’t begrudge them. He just wanted them safe and happy, wherever that might be. On that note… “I wonder why Hela changed her mind about staying with Patience tonight.”

“I don’t think anything bad happened,” Gabriel mused, mixing the ingredients into the beginnings of a dough. “Not with how happy Patience seemed this morning. And Fenrir suggested that Hela is bringing Patience over for dinner.”

Raphael paused for a moment, a small smile growing on his face. “Do you think they’re going to tell us about their relationship?”

“That is a possibility,” Gabriel considered. “But-”

“But it’s not our business, and if they’re not ready to talk about it, then it’s not our place to be asking. They’re happy, and that’s what’s important.” 

Throwing a towel over the bowl to let the dough rise, Gabriel turned to face Raphael, moving to hold his mate’s hips as he leaned in for a kiss. “I know that,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against Raphael’s. “I just worry. All the stress from the shopping trip, and the discussion with Michael and Lucifer has me worrying that something is going to go wrong at any moment. That’s even before Hela’s near death... what, yesterday?”

“Close enough.” It had been a long week for  _ everyone _ and the new year hadn’t even been ushered in yet. They all deserved a nice, relaxing evening, and a good family dinner to share. “Should we ask Dean if they want to celebrate a winter holiday a few days late?” Raphael didn’t want to assume automatically that it would be Christmas that they wanted to celebrate, but he did hope that even if they hadn’t been celebrating a winter holiday, that they could still have a family holiday, to help them push past the trauma of what John Winchester had done to them.

“At the very least, we should probably tell Dean when New Year’s is. There’s no way he knows what day it is, coming out of Hela’s Court the way she always has. Going in on the 21st and coming out on the 24th would upset anyone’s sense of time.”

“I almost wonder if that’s part of why Dean was so stressed this morning. If he was worried that it was the 23rd, or even the 24th, and was worrying that everything needed to be done today out of not being able to do it after, or out of a feeling like we were only willing to do it now?” Raphael mused, carefully balancing Sam so he would be able to pull Gabriel closer. “We also need to talk with Dean about what he said at the store earlier today as well. I don’t think he’ll be able to be completely happy unless he’s able to come to terms with the fact that it’s ok to like things, regardless of if it's ‘girly’, or ‘manly’.”

Gabriel sighed, resting his head on Raphael’s free shoulder. “We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

“We do,” Raphael agreed, leaning his head to lay atop Gabriel’s. “I think we can handle it though, don’t you?”

They could hear the front door slam open down the hallway, and then footsteps, but the individual didn’t poke their head into the kitchen. That didn’t prevent Raphael from knowing who it was, however. He poked his head into the hallway. “Slip, the kids are still sleeping.”

“Sorry!” Slip called back, barely quieting down as he ran back to where his brothers were hanging out in Dean’s room.

“If they wake him up…”   
  
“Hey Mom, Dad.” Hela, followed by Patience, had slipped into the kitchen from the living room entrance while Raphael had been leaning into the hallway. Hela drifted towards the medicine cabinet over the sink. She opened it, took out a pill bottle from the second shelf, shook two pills from it into her hand, put the bottle back, and took the upside-down glass from beside the pill bottle. She filled the glass from the tap, took the pills, and drank the entire glass of water, then she rinsed the glass twice and put it back on the shelf where she’d taken it from, upside-down.

By the time Hela had finished putting the cup back in the cupboard, Raphael had sat down at the counter again, next to the wall.

“Hey Hela, Patience,” Gabriel greeted. “Patience, what kind of toppings do you like on your pizza?”

“BBQ chicken is my favorite pizza, Gabriel,” Patience said. “I’m sorry, may I use the restroom?”

“It’s just through there,” Hela said, motioning towards the living room.

With a nod, Patience slipped out of the room.

“Can I help?” Hela asked, looking towards where Gabriel had left the dough to rise.

“I was thinking the kids could pick their own toppings, but you can help me prepare the crusts ahead of time. We’re doing mini pizzas, so they can mix and match toppings to figure out what they like.”

With a nod, Hela washed her hands good and then removed the towel from the bowl so that she could start tearing it into pieces the right size while Gabriel pulled a container of pizza sauce out of the fridge.

The ring on Hela’s finger was easily visible to both Gabriel and Raphael as she set to work rolling out a smaller ball of dough into the correct thickness. Once she finished rolling out the crust, she passed it in Gabriel’s direction and then started preparing the next crust.

“How are you feeling?” Raphael asked. Having watched as the first thing she had done upon returning home was go straight for her painkillers, he could make a few pretty accurate guesses as to what the answer might have been, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Hela pressed the rolling pin slightly firmer than necessary. “I feel drained,” she said, after a moment. “I almost fainted portalling into town.” She checked the thickness of the crust she was rolling out and decided it was good enough. “But it’s mental, too. Like I just want to sleep, and sleep. Patience and I napped and napped earlier.”

Gabriel sighed, gently laying a hand atop Hela’s to have her pause as he spoke. “Hela, sweetheart, you’ve had a very difficult week, of course you’re going to want to lay down and sleep for a month!”

“I know, I just-” Hela sighed, shifting so that she could lean against Gabriel. “The week after Court has been getting progressively worse with each passing year, but this year… I almost  _ died _ . And I’m worried-” She broke off again, resisting the urge to tap her left hand against the table in frustration that the words weren’t coming for her. “Patience and I are in  _ love _ , and we’re going to get married, soon, but not  _ too  _ soon, and I- I need to hear, I need to hear that you would have told her if I had died, but that’s not really fair because I haven’t  _ told  _ you how much we mean to each other.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Raphael cooed, bittersweetly. Overjoyed that his daughter had such reason to be happy, sad that she didn’t  _ know _ . “You didn’t have to tell us, we  _ know  _ you, but we also didn’t want to pressure you into telling us before you were ready. And yes, if something had happened to you, we would have told Patience ourselves, because you both deserve that.” He got up, shifted Sam in his arms so that he had a free hand, and then walked around the counter so that he could hug Hela. “Safety, and happiness. That’s what we want for all our children, first and foremost.”

Hela reacted without thinking, Gabriel lifting his hand from hers and taking a single step away as soon as she moved so that he wasn’t preventing her from twisting and slamming her arms around Raphael. “ _ Mom _ ,” she rumbled. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears there. But not unhappy ones. “I love you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Patience returned to the kitchen to find Hela and Gabriel having returned to preparing the pizza crusts, Hela by rolling out the dough and Gabriel by spooning sauce onto the crusts. At some point, small bowls of individual toppings, anything that could go on a pizza, had been placed on the table.

Raphael had returned to his seat by the wall, with Sammy having awoken so he was watching the pizza preparation with wide eyes from Raphael’s lap.

“Do you want to try some of the toppings, Sammy?” Patience asked gently, bending over slightly to be more on level with the boy.

She watched as Sam nodded, and she smiled. “Alright, I’m gonna get you a little bit of everything, and we’ll see what you like for your pizza.” After another moment to make sure that Sam was accepting of the plan, Patience stood back up, walking over towards where Hela was standing.

Before she could say anything, Gabriel turned to look at her, a wide smile on his face. “So, am I right in assuming that we can expect you over for dinner more often?”

Patience nodded softly, leaning to kiss Hela on the cheek. “That’s the plan, as long as you will have me.” She reached for a plate, moving to start scooping some of each of the toppings onto it.

Gabriel looked at her, as if wondering what she was thinking. “Patience, when have you  _ ever _ not been welcome? Even if you and Hela weren’t together, you’re still her friend, and we’d be happy to have you regardless.” Setting aside the pizza he had been working on, he reached for a new crust. “Besides, who’s gonna help keep her brothers in line, if you aren’t here?”

“I heard that, and I want you to know that I take offense to that.” Jormungandr complained, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge, pulling out a soda can.

“You were supposed to!” Hela laughed, throwing a small piece of dough at her brother. “Now, get over here and help me out, so we can get these in the oven at some point tonight.”

Patience moved, letting Jormungandr take her place next to Hela. “How did the monopoly game go?” She asked, making her way back to where Raphael and Sam were sitting. “Here you go, Sweetie, why don’t you give these a try?” She handed the plate to Raphael, who held it so that Sam could easily reach the contents.

There was a sigh from Jormungandr, and Patience looked up to see him shake his head. “Fen was kicking us, but we had to stop when Dean woke up. Kid was pretty upset, Slip and Fen are handling it now, but I was just one more person that wasn’t needed, so I came out here.”

“Well, we could use the help.” Gabriel chimed in, making sure the sauce was spread evenly across the crust. “I was gonna use Patience, but I guess I can make it work with you, Jor.”

Jormungandr glared, tossing a pepper at Gabriel, and Patience chuckled at the sight.

The casual chaos that came from being part of a large family was always something that she had longed for as a child. Being an only child, she had watched friends with siblings, and wished for the companionship that they all seemed to have. It hadn’t been so bad, after she had come to live with her grandmother, as she had been invited to join all the different groups from school, all the extra activities, and had almost constantly been invited to spend the night at friend’s houses, but it still hadn’t been the same as having siblings of her own.

She was glad that Sam and Dean had each other, through everything that had happened to them. She had only been able to get faint impressions of their past when they had been in the store, but even that much was enough. No one deserved to have to go through even that, especially not children. The only comfort that any of them could take from the situation was that they weren’t alone.

She easily could have contemplated the past that the boys had been through for a long time, but she was taken out of her thoughts when Sam shook his head violently, spitting out whatever had been in his mouth. She was close enough that the chewed remnants had landed on her shirt, but she merely smiled, moving closer.

“I guess we don’t like that one, huh?” She asked, fighting to keep from laughing as he shook his head grumpily, shoving at the plate in Raphael’s hands, causing it to tip over onto the floor.

Raphael shook his head softly, a smile on his own face. “And with that, I think we’re just going to stick with a plain cheese pizza tonight.” Looking down at the still scowling boy, he continued. “Sammy, I’m going to need to clean that up. Are you going to be alright to sit here? Or do you want someone to hold you?”

"I can clean that-" Patience suggested, but Sammy was already reaching for her.

"Up!"

Raphael shrugged, already standing to hand Sammy to her. “Well, you heard the man, you’re on sitting duty.”

Patience took the small boy, pulling him close as he started to cling to the collar of her shirt. “Alrighty then, I guess it’s you and me, Sammy.” She kept her voice gentle, so as not to cause any stress, gently adjusting the blanket that was still wrapped around his shoulders. “Do you like your blanket, Sammy?”

The boy nodded, letting go of her shirt as he rubbed the blanket against his face. “Soft.” He mumbled, slowly moving to lay his head against her shoulder. “Puppy.”

Patience smiled, leaning her head against Sam’s. “You know what? I love puppies too. I hear you have your own puppy around here somewhere too.”

“Puppy with De,” Sam yawned, nuzzling further into her shoulder. “Meet later?”

“I would like that a lot,” Patience agreed, rubbing Sam’s back gently as she moved across the kitchen. “Do you want or need anything to drink?”

“Water.”

Patience nodded. “We can make that happen, Sweetheart.”

She shifted Sam to better sit him against her hip, smiling and nodding in thanks towards Jormungandr, who had reached into the cabinet to grab a safe cup for Sam to drink from. Taking the cup, she walked over to the sink, filling the cup, then carefully covering it with the lid. “Here you are.” She handed the cup to Sam, who took it and started drinking. “All the excitement today, I bet you’re pretty thirsty.”

Sam nodded, humming softly as he slowly became more and more settled.

Raphael appeared beside her, smiling as he moved to run a hand through Sam’s hair. “You’re good with him.”

She smiled, watching Sam as he looked around the kitchen, watching the others as they continued to work. “He’s a good kid. Pretty easy too, at least this far.”

“Now you’ve done it!” Gabriel exclaimed, waving his spoon through the air wildly as he turned to speak. “The minute you say a kid is easy, you ruin it! Now he’s gonna be just as wild as any of them!”

“Oh hush,” Patience laughed, shaking her head at Gabriel’s antics. “Sam and I have an agreement, don’t you know? He keeps being easy, and I get to meet his puppy later.”

“Puppy.”

Raphael nodded, his smile growing. “Seems like a solid deal to me.”

There was a sigh from Gabriel, as he went back to what he was doing. “As long as he holds up to his end of things.”

* * *

Less than five minutes later, the awaited puppy flew down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

“Puppy!” Sam shouted, sitting up quickly in Patience’s arms, causing her to have to adjust her hold on the boy quickly to keep him from falling on the floor.

“Careful, Sammy,” Patience warned, smiling gently at the boy’s excitement. “If you fall, it’s not going to be fun.”

But the boy didn’t seem to be deterred, as he bounced excitedly while pointing at the dog. “Puppy! De!”

The puppy was barking, tail wagging fiercely as it glided towards Sam and Patience, circling around them with the same level of excitement that Sam had as he continued to bounce in Patience’s arms.

“They’re quite the pair, as you can see,” Raphael chuckled, reaching to run a hand through Sam’s hair as he passed, causing the boy to giggle. “Sam, I’m certain that Dean is on his way, and your puppy didn't just leave him."

Almost immediately, Patience was shocked to see Sam calm, resting his head back on her shoulder. She realized then that it wasn't excitement that had him so riled up, but worry. Her heart ached for the boys once more, as the implications of that concern made themselves all too clear within her mind.

How many nights had they spent alone, worried for each other, terrified that they would be torn apart, by a creature of the night, by the actions of their father, or even by human authorities who thought that they knew what was best for them?

It was something that would be difficult for a full grown adult to cope with, but for children to need to find ways to cope with such a reality?

It never should have happened, and Patience could feel her eyes beginning to fill with tears at the injustice of it all. The boys deserved a home, a  _ family _ , not constantly moving from one place to the next, constantly terrified that each night, each meal,  _ each breath _ could be their last.

"It's alright," Raphael was whispering, suddenly right next to her, as Sam was slipped out of her arms, and into the waiting arms of Jormungandr, who was already regaling the boy with tales of mischief from a childhood raised by the original Trickster.

"It's not alright, it's a tragedy." She protested, but Raphael was shaking his head.

"I know that what happened to them is endlessly unfair, and cruel to the point of inhumanity." He began, keeping his voice low. "But they are  _ safe _ , and neither myself nor Gabriel will ever allow such things to happen to them again."

But the words did little to comfort Patience, as the tears she had been fighting back began to fall. "It never should have happened," she whispered, too upset to create any sound beyond that. "They're  _ children _ ."

“They are.” Raphael agreed, as he reached to pull her into a gentle hug. “That’s why we’re going to protect them, and heal the wounds left behind.”

Another pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. “If anyone can help them, it’s Daddy and Papa,” Hela’s soft voice was a calm, soothing sound as it always was, helping to calm the overwhelmed senses that had seen far too much, though the one who it had happened to could not remember it. 

After an uncertain amount of time, Patience finally pulled back, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Raphael handed her.

Gentle hands at her hips pushed her to turn around, and she saw the concerned face of Hela. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, a shaky smile on her face. “I’m alright, just a tad overwhelmed. I didn’t expect to see so much from Sam, especially after you told me that he had forgotten everything.”

Hela frowned slightly, and Patience knew that the conversation was not over, but it would be for the moment. Happy enough to leave things as they were for the moment, Patience leaned to kiss Hela, only half surprised by the quiet gasp that came not long after.

Funny, she’d almost expected more of a reaction.

* * *

Gabriel knew that he was in for a long night when he heard Dean’s astonished gasp at the sight of Hela and Patience kissing.

The only thing that kept his mood as high as it had been earlier was the overly casual behaviors of the rest of the household, as if the pair’s relationship had always been open knowledge, and not something that had remained unsaid for several years.

“Hela, Patience, you have any plans for tonight?” Fenrir asked as he dug through the fridge, quickly followed by a groan from Slip, who was holding Dean.

“Fen, if you try to drag them into the ongoing saga of you becoming a  _ slum lord _ before anyone has even bought Boardwalk, I swear that I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey, if anyone gets to kill him, it’s gonna be me!” Jor chimed in, gesturing wildly with the spoon he had been using to spread the sauce for the pizzas, flinging droplets of bright red sauce across the kitchen.

“Alright, cut it out!” Gabriel cut in, rolling his eyes. “You know the rules, no adding anyone to a game in progress if it’s been more than three turns, and no murder before meal time.”

He was glad to see that Dean looked a little more relaxed, if only because no one was attacking or shouting at Hela and Patience, but Gabriel still knew that there would still be some difficulty later. Regardless, he wanted to try to make sure that the boy would be comfortable through dinner, so he reached out. “Alright, Fen, get to work on the oven. Slip, you’re on setting the table. Jor, stop flinging sauce at your brothers.”

* * *

Luckily for everyone, dinner managed to pass without incident. Sam had eaten everything on his plate, though his meal had been as simple as they could keep it, in an attempt to keep him satisfied. Dean, on the other hand, had hardly poked at his.

Raphael had watched as Patience and Hela held hands under the table, occasionally trading chaste kisses. The older boys, Fenrir, Jormungandr, and Slipnir, had made dinner as noisy an affair as they could, without ever crossing the ever delicate line of Too Much. The trio were always rather loud, leading Raphael to question on several occasions if they had any idea of what an acceptable noise level was, but this was an intentional level of noise, exactly one notch below that ever shifting line of Too Much.

It was something that Raphael was incredibly proud of the boys for doing, trying to do their best to show the children that they were allowed to express themselves, and make noise. They all knew that it would likely take much longer for Sam and Dean to become fully comfortable, and to embrace the safety and comfort that he and Gabriel had fought so hard to provide for any children under their care, but these displays would likely go quite a long way to show them that they were safe.

That wasn’t to say that they hadn’t had to tell the boys to quiet down, as they’d needed to several times, but it was still a wonderful display of what a normal meal, and even a normal  _ life _ in their household would look like.

A life in which no one got in very much trouble for anything. Especially not for the usual antics of childhood.

Now that the meal was finished, however, the older boys were cleaning up the table, their usual antics in full force as they took turns grabbing the dishes, washing them, drying them, and putting them up. Hela and Patience were still sitting at the table, though Sam had managed to wiggle his way back into Hela’s lap, and was laying against her, yawning softly on occasion as the girls quietly discussed their plans for the evening.

Raphael had few expectations for how the evening would go, after everything from the meal had been cleaned up.

Hela and Patience would likely go to Hela’s room, spending the evening by themselves, or they might take Sam with them. The boy was clearly still exhausted, and was likely to fall asleep soon, assuming he didn’t find any extra energy at the last moment.

The boys would return to their monopoly game, and Fenrir would more than likely destroy his siblings, and become a millionaire in the process. Such was the cost of playing board games with Fenrir.

He and Gabriel, however, were hoping to see about speaking with Dean. After the long day that he’d had, they both wanted to try and discuss the day’s events with him, and to see how he was holding up after everything, especially when there had been so many changes in such a short time.

It was a conversation that they tried to have with any that they welcomed into the family. Not only so they could try to get to know their new fosterlings, but also so they could get a better idea of how they were to care for them, even if it were only to last for a few days. Sam was a little young to have that discussion, even without having lost his memory, but Dean was old enough to discuss the basics, so they were both confident that they would be able to come up with a basic plan of how to help the children, even though Raphael was already starting to create plans for the short term. A solid, long term plan was always equally important, especially when helping children through trauma, like what Dean had experienced.

Another moment passed, as the boys finished putting away the last of the dishes, grabbing bottles of water on their way up to the room where their game was set up, and Raphael cleared his throat slightly, trying to gently gain Dean’s attention. “Dean? If you feel up to it, Gabriel and I would like to have a bit of a discussion with you, just to ensure that we’re all on the same page.”

Dean seemed to freeze, but Hela was already working to try and keep the situation under control.

“Dean,” she started, voice soft as she smiled at the boy softly. “Why don’t Patience and I take Sam so he can sleep, while you, Daddy, and Momma have your talk? We’ll just be right across the hall, in the living room, so you can join us when you’re done.”

The boy looked uncertain, and for a moment, Raphael was worried that he would try to run away. He wouldn’t blame him, of course, as Dean had been through quite the stressful day, and would likely just wish to return to bed, and sleep away the stress.

But the resilience of children would never cease to amaze Raphael. Dean slowly nodded, even as he was watching Hela closely. “You’ll be there?”

Patience was the one to nod though, as she left her chair, moving around the table to kneel in front of Dean. “Sweetheart, there’s no need to worry. Just a calm conversation, with some hot cocoa, and you can come join us for a nap. I promise.”

Raphael watched as Dean seemed to consider things for a moment, before he nodded again. “Okay,” he whispered, and Raphael found himself smiling.

“Alright,” Hela spoke, carefully standing, so that Sam would not be jostled as he continued to lay against her. “Once you’re done, we’re right across the hall.”

Raphael smiled, watching as the rest of the children filtered out of the kitchen, leaving him and Gabriel alone with Dean.

He busied himself by pouring whole milk into a skillet and decorating it with various ingredients. Sweet treats were typically Gabriel's speciality, what with his second identity being a trickster, but there was just something about taking care of his family that resonated in Raphael's grace.

Raphael’s own specialty was healing, but it also extended to caretaking, no matter what form it took. Whether he was holding one of his children as they cried, healing bumps and bruises as they played, or easing the pain of a terminally ill patient in their final days, it would bring a sense of satisfaction to his grace, as he cared for those around him.

With the drink finished, poured into a rather adorable mug with prints of cat paws along it, and whipped cream swirled on top, Raphael made his way back to the table. He set the drink in front of Dean, before sitting next to the boy. Gabriel was sitting on the other side of the table, and Raphael wanted to help show more tangible support, should Dean need it.

“Be careful, your drink is hot,” Raphael warned, as Dean reached for the mug.

The boy nodded, pulling the mug closer to himself, before dragging a finger through the whipped cream.

It was such an innocent, carefree act, and it made Raphael smile.

He watched as Dean proceeded to stick his finger in his mouth and suck on it slowly to lick all the whip cream off. For a moment, Raphael’s thoughts drifted to how sticky Dean’s fingers would be, and he wondered if it could potentially be a sensitivity that the boy would have, but that was a discovery to be made later.

For the moment, he was happy enough to just let Dean be a child. 

Unfortunately, neither he or Gabriel could allow the conversation at hand to wait forever, and so, Gabriel was already moving to begin. Raphael could only hope that they would be able to discover what they would need to, and be able to help Dean more fully understand that he and Sam were safe, and would remain so for as long as they wished to live with them.

* * *

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had hot chocolate with whipped cream on top,  _ and _ marshmallows in it. Every time he thought that things couldn’t get any nicer, Raphael and Gabriel would prove him wrong, and it was really nice, but at the same time, it also worried him.

If they were just being nice to convince him and Sam that it was good, and that they wouldn’t hurt them, what would happen when they decided that they were tired of putting up an act? They’re  _ gods _ , and he’s a kid. How is he supposed to keep Sam safe against literal gods, if they decided to attack?

He didn’t have too long to think about that, though, as Gabriel started to talk.

“Now, like Raphael said earlier, this is just a casual discussion, so we all know we’re on the same page. While the two of us want to get to know you and Sammy better, we also want you to be able to use this time as an opportunity to get to know  _ us _ better as well, and allow all of us to talk about any concerns we may have.”

Dean nodded slowly, not quite sure why Raphael or Gabriel would care if he or Sam would be worried about anything. They were the adults, and he and Sam were the kids. They made all the decisions, and he and Sam had to deal with it. That’s just how things worked.

A moment passed, and Raphael nodded as well. “Alright. Before we begin, I just wanted to thank you for being so brave about everything that happened today. I know that there was a lot of stressful moments, and even some moments that may have been frightening, and you did so well through all of them.”

Dean shrugged, still not quite understanding why either of them cared so much, but not willing to protest. The praise, though he didn’t deserve it, made him feel good. Like he’d done something right, for once.

“‘s not a big deal,” he mumbled, wanting nothing more than to not be the center of attention anymore. Whenever John paid attention to him or Sam, it never ended well, and with no frame of reference as to how Gabriel and Raphael would act, especially with all the tantrums he’d thrown today, all the attention was making him nervous.

“See, we think it is a big deal,” Gabriel was saying, and Dean felt his heart start to race. “You’ve gone through a lot over the last few days, and it would be a lot for anyone. Not even Fen was able to handle himself so well when he was your age."

Dean frowned, staring at the mug sitting on the table. He didn’t know if he believed Gabriel, Fenrir was so cool, and he was able to keep his siblings safe. Dean couldn’t even keep one sibling safe, so why did Gabriel seem to think that he was doing better than Fenrir? He was barely able to hold it together on a good day, and he’d clearly shown that he wasn’t even able to behave for a few hours while going shopping, so he didn’t know why they were bothering to pretend that he was better than he really was.

Sam was the good kid, not him. If they hadn’t realized that yet, they would soon. All Dean could do was hope that they’d at least let him say goodbye to Sam before they made him leave.

There was a sigh, and a moment of silence, before Raphael was speaking again.

“Dean, I meant to ask you this morning, but do you know if you or Sam have any allergies that Gabriel and I should know about? I wouldn’t want either of you to suffer any kind of reaction, if preventative measures could be taken.”

Dean blinked. John had never cared enough to worry about something as stupid as allergies, especially if there was nothing life threatening. A couple hours of sneezing, or headaches weren’t something to sit and worry about, when there were more important things that needed to be done, like research for a hunt, or making sure that all of John’s weapons were clean and ready to use.

Gabriel and Raphael really seemed like they did care though, or they did a good job of pretending, at least. Maybe they wouldn’t get in trouble for it, after all. But would it really be worth the risk? He barely knew them, and he and Sam had only known that they existed at all for a day. It wouldn’t be hard for them to try and trick him into trusting them, only to prove that they were just trying to trick him into telling them how best to punish them for being bad.

Like he’d been today.

He couldn’t just stay quiet though, or he’d just be even more bad. When an adult asked a question, you needed to answer.

“I’m allergic to cats,” he eventually whispered, not sure he’d be able to say anything any louder.

Dean was silent, waiting for whatever reaction they might have. He was scared, not wanting to set them off, but also not knowing if they expected anything else. He couldn’t think of anything else to tell them, though. He loved cats, but they always gave him the sniffles. They could potentially hurt him with it by giving him a cat, but he'd always kind of wanted one. And Sam had a dog. Most people didn't want both, and they'd already accepted Sam's puppy. They probably wouldn't give him a cat  _ too _ .

_ But what if they did, and then decided they didn't want  _ him  _ anymore. What would happen to the cat then? _

“Alright, we can make sure that no one brings home any cats, if that’ll keep your allergies from getting worse.” Dean looked up, seeing a smile on Raphael’s face.

Gabriel was smiling too. “If you really want one, though, we can always find a way to make it work. There’s always hypoallergenic breeds, or we can try different treatments for your allergies.”

Dean was frozen, not knowing how to react. Why were they being so  _ nice _ ? He didn’t deserve it, he knew he didn’t, so why were they trying so hard to try and convince him that he did?

He could feel himself shaking, but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t stop it, either, even as he could see Gabriel and Raphael moving.

Arms wrapped around him, and he was being pulled into someone’s lap as he started to cry. It only made him cry harder, because they had already done that so many times, more times than he’d been held at all since his mama had died. “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Raphael was asking, and Dean found himself trying to get closer. “You can tell me, it’s alright.”

“I don’t know,” he gasped, rubbing his eyes with his fists as he leaned against Raphael. “I don’t know what you want, or what I’m supposed to do, or why you’re being so nice!”

“What do you mean, Kiddo? Can you try to explain that for me?”

Dean sniffed, trying his hardest to force out the words as he sobbed. “I’ve been horrible! I was mean at the store, and I said bad things to Sammy, and I caused a scene at lunch, and I-”

“It’s ok,” Raphael was whispering, even though Dean knew that he had no chance of calming down any time soon. “We said that we’re proud of you, and we meant it, we promise. You’ve had a very hard day, followed by a hard life, and that’s more than enough reason to cry, or cause a scene, or even be grumpy in the store. Beyond any of that, though, you’re also a  _ child _ . We don’t expect you to be perfect, because not even we are.”

“I don’t know what you want,” Dean whispered, his breathing shaky. “I’m not good, Sammy is. I’m supposed to take care of him, and I can’t even do that right.”

Gabriel was kneeling in front of him, a strange, sad looking smile on his face. “Alright, we’re gonna address all that, but we’re gonna start with that last thing. You’ve done a fantastic job of taking care of Sam, you made sure that he ate, he had all his clothes on properly, went to bed at a good hour, and that he had someone with him. You did your best, but you’re a child, just like he is. Would you expect him to be able to raise another child on his own, at his age?”

Dean shook his head, and Gabriel nodded. “Exactly. Having that expectation placed on you was unfair, and there was no way that you would be able to do a perfect job, even if you had all the money and supplies in the world. Do you know why?”

“Because I’m a kid?”

“Because you’re a kid.”

“We don’t say that to put you down,” Raphael was speaking then, and Dean found himself somehow managing to calm down as he felt the words rumble in the chest below him. “We say that you’re a child, because at the end of the day, you are. Physically, you are not full grown, and regardless of your best efforts, there will be things that you can’t do. And one of those things is to successfully raise a child. You’ve done a wonderful job until now, but you don’t have to anymore, you understand?”

He shook his head again. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t think he would. The only thing he knew how to do was to take care of Sam, and the thought of not doing that anymore scared him. “What am I supposed to do if I’m not taking care of him?”

Gabriel reached out, placing a hand on Dean’s knee. “Well, that’s going to be the answer to what we expect from you, alright?” When Dean nodded, he continued. “All we want from you, is to be a kid. We want you to be safe, happy, and to let us help take care of you and Sam. Do you think you can try to do that?”

Dean wasn’t sure, but he wanted to try. He was so  _ tired _ of having to do everything on his own, and the thought of someone else taking care of it all was so tempting. Eventually, he nodded slowly.

“Alright,” Gabriel smiled. “We’re going to take care of you, now, until you feel strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, we’ll always be here, to help you when you need it, and to give you a place where you will always belong. That’s what family does, understand?”

Dean nodded again, yawning softly. He didn’t know when it happened, but he’d managed to grab a handful of Raphael’s shirt, pulling it close like it was a blanket.

There was a quiet chuckle, and he could feel Raphael rubbing his back. “I think it might be time for bed, little one. Why don’t we go get Sam, and get ready to sleep?”

He didn’t have the energy to nod, so he just snuggled further into Raphael, yawning again. He was lifted again, carried out of the kitchen, and he closed his eyes, trying to trust Gabriel and Raphael to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has this very long day that started at the beginning of chapter 6 finally ended?!
> 
> We'd like to thank you for sticking around despite the length of time between updates. I (Clo here) found my Raphael Bingo post at the end of 2019, hoping that everyone might have a better 2020 than 2019 was, and wow, I was so optimistic.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second update in Clover and I's quest to update as many of our WIPs as possible by the end of the year!
> 
> Here, we have some backstory and worldbuilding (sorta), and more attempts to work in the Netflix!Lucifer world, even though it's all just exposition right now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, and we'll see you with the next update!

Raphael and Gabriel laid in their bed, taking a moment to indulge in a quiet moment between themselves. Raphael laid his head against Gabriel’s shoulder, resting his hand atop his heart, so as to better feel the life that flowed within Gabriel’s vessel. It was soothing for him, to have that assurance that his mate was there, and hadn’t tried to pull away after all the emotions of the day.

That wasn’t to say that Gabriel was flighty, or that he was prone to running away from a difficult situation, but it was an unfortunate result of their upbringing.

With a distant Father who had been quick to anger, and slow to forgive, it was often that the easiest way to deal with conflict was to run and hide, or else risk His wrath upon you as well. And with Michael and Lucifer drawing that anger towards themselves, both in an attempt to protect the rest of them, and as a consequence of their own arguments between themselves, for Gabriel to attempt to hide away from the world when it was all overwhelming was more than understandable.

Once Lucifer had been cast out from their home, and Michael had found it harder to keep the attention away from the rest, Gabriel had approached Raphael in tears. It had been far from the first time that their Father had shouted at him, but it had happened one time too many for him to remain where he was. In a moment of impulsivity that he hadn’t been known for, Raphael had acted immediately.

He’d told Michael the barest details of his plan, mere moments before he’d enacted it. And with Michael working to keep their Father’s attention away from them, Raphael had taken Gabriel into his arms, into his wings, and had carried them both away from the place that had stopped being a home for them.

He never stopped to consider the repercussions of such an act, hadn’t given any thought to what could happen to his younger siblings. He’d seen his brother, his  _ mate _ , (though that would come later, after they’d both had time to come to terms with everything that had happened), growing ever more disillusioned with life within Heaven’s boundaries, and he’d acted to try and protect him, and the light that he held inside of him.

Gabriel sighed beneath Raphael, and he shifted to try and comfort his mate. “Talk to me,” he urged, not wanting Gabriel to keep anything locked inside of himself, where it would sit and fester until he could do nothing else but try to run from it.

“I keep thinking about what Dean said, about not being a good kid.” He sighed again, shifting them further, until he was pulling Raphael closer to his chest. “Kids don’t just come up with that kind of thought on their own. That’s something that he was told, over and over, until it became a fact. The sky is blue, grass is green, and Dean’s a bad kid.”

It was Raphael’s turn to sigh, as he tilted his head up to kiss Gabriel’s jaw. “I know,” he whispered, trying to find the words needed. “They’re safe now, and we won’t ever allow them to experience such things again, but that doesn’t diminish the impact of what was done to them both.”

Raphael could feel Gabriel start to shake, as his emotions started to overwhelm him. “It’s not fair, how could Father have let this happen to them?”

His heart aching, Raphael shifted, until their positions had been reversed, and he was holding Gabriel. “I don’t know,” he admitted, running his fingers through his mate’s hair. “What I do know, is that Father can be cruel, when it comes to His children. If He can be so cruel to the ones He directly created, I would not put it past Him to carry that cold apathy, hot rage, and knowing neglect onto the creations that He did not directly form.”

Raphael’s shirt began to dampen with tears, as Gabriel’s shaking increased. “He’s not a bad kid, he’s not! He’s such a good kid, and he hates himself because his father is a piece of garbage who blames everyone else for his own actions!”

“I know,” Raphael soothed, taking a deep breath to try and keep himself calm. His mate hadn’t been so upset in several centuries, not since he had been summoned to the side of a young, terrified pagan, bleeding out into the snow. He had returned late that night, three children in his arms, injured and on the verge of death, having sworn to raise and protect them, and a mission to rescue a fourth from captivity. Though Raphael hadn’t known what to expect, or where the children had come from, he’d immediately opened his heart to them, raising them as his own, though he’d not known them moments before.

He’d held his mate that night, just as he was now, as he’d shaken. He’d been full of sorrow for the fate of the young pagan, murdered at the cusp of adulthood, terrified that he would be just as bad of a parent as their Father had been, and angry at the one who had stolen away the life of one who had done nothing wrong.

And now, Gabriel was fighting with emotions that were incredibly similar, and Raphael was prepared to do the same as he had back then.

He would hold his mate, and support him through his struggle. The same as he had held Gabriel back then, and the same as he would at any time in the future when it was needed. 

* * *

_ “Mama! Look what I made!” _

_ “That’s amazing, baby! You did so good!” _

_ “Do you think the baby will like it?” _

_ “I know they will. Now, let’s go put it in the baby’s room, and get ready for dinner.” _

_ “Ok!” _

Dean opened his eyes, a sad feeling filling him. It wasn’t often that he dreamed of his mom, but every time he did, it always left him sad. He wanted his mom, but he couldn't have her.

He would never see her again.

At least he still had Sammy, who was snuggled next to him, his dog laying on top of them, watching over them, and keeping them safe while they slept. And Gabriel and Raphael had said that they would take care of them, but he still didn’t know if he could trust them. Not yet, at least.

There was a soft knock at the door, and a moment later, it opened.

Dean turned his head, barely able to make out Raphael’s form entering the room. “Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well?”

He shrugged as best as he could, watching her as she moved to sit on the end of the bed, not too far away from where he and Sam were. “I guess,” he mumbled, a hand reaching to try and detangle Sam’s grip on his shirt.

Raphael smiled softly. “That’s good,” she whispered, pausing for a moment before she continued. “Are there any questions you might have for me, that you couldn’t think of last night?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to risk making her mad, or having her tell Gabriel anything that would make  _ him _ mad, if he ended up saying the wrong thing. Even though he did have questions, he couldn’t risk it.

There was a quiet hum, as Raphael nodded softly. “Alright, but if you ever just want to talk at any time, I’m always here for you. And I won’t tell anyone else, if you don’t want me to, as long as it isn't anything that could cause harm to you, or anyone else. Understand?”

Dean nodded hesitantly, still not quite sure if he could trust her. Some part of him really wanted to, though. He was just so  _ tired _ of having to do everything on his own, and Raphael seemed so willing to help, but she was still an unknown. 

“Alright,” Raphael smiled again, standing up. “Breakfast is almost ready, if you’re hungry.”

“I could eat,” He mumbled.

Raphael nodded, reaching to pick Sam up. “Gabriel is waiting in the kitchen, if you want to head that way.”

“Ok.”

After a moment, Raphael left the room, Sam’s dog flying after her, leaving Dean alone. He sat on the bed for a minute, trying to figure out what was happening, and why he felt like he needed to be able to trust Gabriel and Raphael, before shaking his head, and beginning to get ready for the day.

All the clothes that they’d bought the day before had been put away, either hung up in the closet, or folded in the dresser, with plenty of room for more clothes. Not that Dean understood why Gabriel or Raphael would want to buy them more clothes, after they’d already bought so much, but he wouldn’t try to tell them not to.

Choosing a shirt at random, and a pair of pants that felt soft, he dressed quickly, deciding at the last moment to not find a pair of socks, or put on his shoes. He wanted to try and trust them, and they’d said that he didn’t need to worry about needing to run away all the time. He didn’t know if he could trust them yet, but he wanted to  _ try _ .

And so, before he could lose his courage, he left the room, clutching his stuffed kitty in his arms as he padded down the hall towards the kitchen.

He peeked around the corner, seeing Gabriel standing at the stove, whistling to himself as he shifted something around a pan. He watched for a moment, to make sure that nothing was about to happen, before quietly entering the kitchen.

Gabriel turned slightly, smiling at Dean before turning back to whatever he was cooking. “Morning, Dean,” he greeted, turning the heat down on the stove before walking over to the table, pulling out a chair for Dean to sit in. “Raphael has Sam?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, sitting at the table. “Sammy was still asleep, and she took him.”

Gabriel nodded. “Makes sense. It’s been a while since we’ve taken care of children as young as you two, and I know that Raphael has missed it. He probably just wanted some bonding time.”

Dean frowned, not sure what was going on. Raphael was a girl, right? So why was Gabriel trying to say that Raphael was a boy? He’d been sure that Hela had called Raphael her Momma last night, but had he been wrong? Did he hear her wrong?

But Gabriel was still talking. “Now, I’m not sure if Raph has mentioned this or not, but we want you and Sam to feel comfortable with us, and that includes asking questions. I couldn’t even start to tell you how many times Fen, Jor, and the others come to me with a question, either because they don’t know the answer, or because they want to make sure that they do. So, I want to make sure that you know that it’s ok to ask us questions, whenever you want. Even if you think it’s a silly question, or you think we’re going to be upset, we just want to help you feel safe, and a large part of that is having the proper information.”

“Why do you call Raphael a boy, but Hela calls Raphael her Momma?”

The words escaped before Dean could stop them, but before he could even begin to panic, Gabriel was talking.  _ Again _ . 

“Well, Raphael has always been more fluid than the rest of us,” he was saying, as he started taking what Dean could finally identify as pancakes out of the pan, and piling them on a plate. “He doesn’t really fit fully into the roles of being strictly male, or strictly female, and generally finds himself somewhere in the middle.”

Dean blinked, suddenly even more confused. “But, you can only be a boy or a girl, right? I didn’t think you could be both.”

Gabriel turned to face Dean then, but he was smiling, keeping Dean’s panic at bay. “A lot of people think that too, but a lot of things are different when you actually look at the real world.” He brought the plate of pancakes over to the table, sitting across from Dean before continuing. “Sometimes, what you’re born as doesn’t quite fit, and you find out that you’re declared to be at birth doesn’t match how you feel inside. When that happens, there are things that you can do to change your appearance, so that your body can match how you feel.”

Dean looked down at the table, thinking back to the last morning, at the store. “Is… is that why Sammy wanted the girl’s shoes?”

Gabriel sighed softly. “I don’t want to say anything definitive one way or the other, as there’s plenty of time for Sam to decide that, but as of this point, I’m inclined to believe that his only point of interest was the fact that it had puppies on it. But it’s important that we support Sam’s decisions, so that if it turns out that he really was trying to figure out what he truly wants out of life, he knows that we’re here to love and support him, no matter what.”

After a moment, Dean nodded slowly, not quite understanding, though he was desperate to.

“And that goes for you too, Dean.”

He looked up, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel was smiling. “Sam isn’t the only one who we want to know that we love and support him,” he said, as he pushed the plate of pancakes towards Dean. “It’ll take some time before he believes it, but I’m pretty sure that Raphael and I are more than patient enough, and more than willing to put in the effort required to help him learn.”

Dean stared at Gabriel, frozen in place. He had no idea how to respond to that, or how to respond to  _ anything _ anymore. Everything that he thought he’d known was suddenly different, and had apparently been different the whole time, but he hadn’t known, and he didn’t know how to understand any of it now. But Gabriel was still smiling, as if he hadn’t just taken Dean’s world and shattered it into pieces.

“It’s ok, Dean,” Gabriel spoke softly, fully capturing Dean’s attention as a feeling of warmth unlike any other surrounded him. “We’re here now, and you don’t have to worry about taking care of everything by yourself anymore. Raphael and I are more than able to take care of you and Sam, to make sure that you two have enough food, clothes that fit properly, and a safe place to sleep at night. We were able to do it for Fen, Jor, Hela, and Slip, so there’s no reason why we wouldn’t be able to do it for you and Sam.”

“But, what if you get tired of us?” Dean whispered, once again feeling unsure and nervous, though he knew that he had no reason to be. “What if you decide that you don’t want us anymore? What if we’re too annoying, or too loud, or too needy, and you don’t want to have to deal with us anymore?”

Somehow, without Dean noticing, Gabriel had moved, and was now kneeling on the kitchen floor, next to Dean’s chair. “Now, I wonder who would have told you that?” He asked, his smile replaced by a small frown. “Who made you so scared of others, so certain that anyone other than them wouldn’t be willing to care for you properly, that you don’t trust anyone but yourself now that you’re in a new situation?”

“I, I don’t, I just,” Dean was tripping over his words, but he was silenced when Gabriel’s hand moved to rest on Dean’s cheek, wiping away tears he hadn’t realized had started to fall with a barely there touch from his thumb.

“It’s ok, Dean,” Gabriel was smiling again, but it looked sad somehow. “I know that you’ve had a difficult life, and that you’ve had to rely on a less than ideal guardian. I also know that when that guardian wasn’t there, you had to take care of yourself and Sam. Trying to adjust to a situation where you don’t have to worry about food, shelter, or safety, after having to worry about it for so long takes time to adjust. But I told you something earlier, about Raphael and I. Do you remember what that was?”

Dean shook his head, breath hitching, as he desperately tried to remember, to be able to tell Gabriel what he had said, so that nothing would happen, so he wouldn’t get mad, but Gabriel was already trying to soothe him.

“It’s ok, I promise. I told you that Raphael and I have more than enough patience, and are more than willing to put in the effort needed to help you learn and understand that you are safe, loved, and supported, no matter what your path in life may be, or who you become.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, helping to calm Dean. “When I said that, I wasn’t lying. We weren’t lying last night, either, when we said that we were proud of you, or when we said that we wanted to help you feel more comfortable, like this is your home, just as much as it’s a home for the others. You’re our child now, just like Fen, Hela, and the others, and that means that we’re always going to be here for you, understand?”

Sniffling softly, Dean nodded, leaning into the hand that was still holding his cheek. He wanted so badly to believe Gabriel, was fighting so hard to be able to trust him and Raphael, but it was just so  _ hard _ .

"I know, sweetheart, I know," Gabriel whispered, pulling Dean out of the chair and into his lap, as Dean began to shake from the force of his sobs. "Just let it out, you're safe here, I swear."

Dean clung to Gabriel, throwing his arms around Gabriel’s neck and burying his face in his neck as he cried.

* * *

Lucifer had to drag Michael away from the entry to the kitchen, before either of them could do anything rash.

By the time they were back in the room that they had been given in Gabriel and Raphael’s home, Michael was shaking with the force of his rage. It was something that Lucifer hadn’t seen in many years, not since Heaven had been filled with fighting, and he’d been cast away from the only home he’d ever known, simply for asking a few too many questions, and making one too many snarky comments towards his Father.

"How dare anyone hurt those boys?!" Michael growled, pacing back and forth in an attempt to burn off the anger that filled his being.

Lucifer was also upset, but he tried his hardest to tamp it down, so as to better process the information that he had learned about the Winchester boys' lives within the last several hours.

He'd known that things had been bad. No six year old should have needed to be able to make a hundred dollars buy enough food for weeks at a time, while his older brother practiced the five finger discount when it wasn't enough. They shouldn’t have needed to make the choice between a can of vegetables or a can of beans, shouldn't have needed to figure out how to make rice and plain noodles interesting after weeks of nothing else.

No child should have flinched away from him, devil though he may be, he was still an angel, and children recognized that far easier than adults would. But Sam had flinched away, that first night when they had shared their dreams, as if expecting a blow at any moment. He’d recognized the behavior easily, knowing all too well that it was not a normal reaction for a child to have, even when faced with a stranger.

It was the reaction of a child who had been hit before, and more than expected to be hit again, simply for existing.

“Michael, you need to calm down,” Lucifer spoke quietly, trying to keep calm in the face of what they’d learned, if only to be strong for Sam and Dean should they come looking for him. “If they come in here and see you-”

“See me what? See my rage?! They deserve to see it, to know that someone cares!”

“They will see another angry adult!” Lucifer shouted, turning on his brother, suddenly shaking from the strength of his emotion. “They will not see someone who is willing to protect them, they will see someone who wishes to hurt them! Just like every other adult they have ever known!”

Almost immediately, Michael deflated, as if he were a fledgling once again, and their Mother was staring him into submission after getting into mischief. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t want to hurt them,”

“I know,” Lucifer sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, head held in his hands. “They should have been protected, but you of all people should know that we cannot change the past. The only ones who would be able to are Mom or Dad, but Dad does not care, hasn’t for years, and Mom decided that abandoning all of us for a new universe would be better than trying to make things right, even after Uriel-”

The words died in his throat then, the unending pain and grief that still plagued him over what he’d needed to do preventing him from speaking. He heard a sigh then, before the bed dipped next to him, one of Michael’s wings wrapping around his shoulders.

“You did your best, Luci,” Michael soothed, pulling Lucifer to lean into his embrace. “He wouldn’t have stopped, wouldn’t have let Chloe live, wouldn’t have let Trixie grow up with her mother in her life, and he likely would have even tried to hurt Trixie, if he had any inclination that Chloe’s status as a Miracle could have passed to her in any way.”

“He, he was out of control,” Lucifer choked out, eyes closed tightly.

  
“That’s right,” Michael whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Michael’s head. “You were protecting Chloe, protecting your  _ charge _ , and I know that Father would forgive you for it.” There was a pause, and Lucifer could feel Michael draw in a shuddered breath. “That little girl couldn’t have a better Guardian Angel, even if Father Himself came down to protect her.”

Lucifer shook his head. “I’m a poor excuse of a Guardian, I couldn’t even help Sam, and stop the bastard who dared to call himself a father from harming him and his brother.”

Michael sighed. “If that makes you a poor Guardian, then I am an even worse brother. After all, I didn’t stop Father from casting you away.”

“That’s different, you know just as well as I that trying to go against whatever Dad wants is futile.” Lucifer protested, freezing when he heard Michael laugh.

“Exactly. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened to Sam and Dean, just like I can’t keep blaming myself for what happened to you. It’s just going to tear us apart if we keep wondering what we could have done differently.”

With a sigh, Lucifer nodded. It seemed that Michael had managed to trick him into seeing sense. After a moment, a thought drifted into his mind, and he found himself smiling softly. “Perhaps, I can bring Sam and Dean to visit Beatrice one day,” he mused, imagining the chaos that would come of such a meeting.

Beatrice would understand that she would need to be gentle with both of the boys, as she was a bright child. A more relaxed excursion would be best, maybe a visit to an aquarium, or the planetarium? Somewhere that would allow the children to gaze in awe at the creations that Lucifer and his siblings had aided with, while also allowing for educational opportunities, should they be more interested in the science behind each masterpiece they saw. True, he’d already taken Beatrice to all of the age appropriate museums and attractions near Los Angeles, but now that he had his wings, it would be easy to take the children to wherever they wished, so long as there was proper parental permission.

“That could be interesting,” Michael agreed, a hand finding its way to Lucifer’s hand, and running through the soft strands. “I fear for Chloe should Beatrice decide that she would like her own dog after being introduced to Puppy, however.”

“A pet would teach her responsibility!” Lucifer reasoned, already plotting how to convince the Detective to let the Spawn have a pet. “She would have to take it for a walk, clean up after it, and make sure it was fed! It would be perfect for teaching a young girl! Although, if I was able to train a hellhound for her…”

“Luci, no.”

“You never let me have fun.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [Hyrulehearts1123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123) Log in to view. 
  * [Holding Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767459) by [sageclover61](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61)
  * [Snow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26785852) by [sageclover61](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61)


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